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smolcuriouskitten · 2 years

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[ FIVE PLEAS ] send for five times the receiver wanted to ask the sender to stay and the one time they do.

1. Almost

It was one of those hectic days. Between her having to plan for her tour places and dates with her new trainees coming into town, she had little to no time to hang out with Gabriel. Sure, he was there to witness some of the chaos but he had to attend to a personal matter. On the outside, she gave a smile and a kiss, thanking him for his assistance. On the inside, she was hoping that he would stay, praying that he would stay with her. Despite not being able to spend much time with him, the fact that she knew he was there to keep her company kept her calm. So she hasnt said anything, just kept going about her busy day trying to focus on it ending.

2. Almost

It has been hard for them since that....thing sniped them from behind during their last outing. More looking over their shoulders, more feeling anxious when going out, hell if they even go out at all. Even though Rockelle hated it, she had to make the decision for them to part ways for now. Gabriel did not see what she did and how she got them out of that but it ate her up inside. She hated the feeling, she hated lying to him about what happened. If he truly seen what she was, she was too scared to see how he would react and that was enough for her to have that difficult conversation with him. She reassured him that she wasnt going anywhere, that they werent breaking up, just for their safety for the time being that they shouldnt see each other physically for awhile. Gabriel didnt want that to happen but he understood. He knew the risks that could come with them being together, even if it pained him to have to seperate for a bit. It never is easy when it comes to love, is it?

3. Almost

Ever since Rockelle has used all of that ever energy from the attack, her magic has been all out of whack. Between the random spells, objects moving on their own, her hair and nails growing unevenly, it was all strange. She had called Renelle, Chris, and her father so many times that she couldnt count, hell she was confined to her home with how many issues were happening. She couldnt DREAM of going in public. Her phone rang and sure enough, it was Gabriel, checking up on her. Now stuck in the form of a little black cat, she looks down at the phone and her paw presses the answer button. To her surprise it answers and she meows over the phone. "Kitten? Is that you?" He ask and Rockelle trills and mews, rubbing her head against the speaker. "Hey no need to rub your head on me, I can understand you." He responds calmly and Rockelle lets out a surprised meow and he laughs. "I feel like you forget I am an archangel. Ya know...Understand all creations, even you love. Im glad to hear you are okay. Wait....Heres a question, why are you a cat?" He asks, sitting down on the bed in his room, listening to Rockelle meow and trill about what happened with her magic and how it had been ever since the attack. He listened attentively with small nods and 'hm and ah's' every now and again. "Im sorry to hear, I wish I could be there to help you!" A soft sad noise left her mouth and she whines, making Gabriel pout. "I know kitten I know. I wanna see you too." He was fighting ever fiber of his being to not zap over there and give her a big kiss but they promised each other, and he wasnt one to go against his word, even if it meant hurting them.

4. Almost

The night was going well for the first official date. Rockelle was not expecting things to this well, especially with her first impression of Gabriel. She thought he was annoying and it made her want to rip her hair out with how childish he was. Once getting know him and learn more about him as a person, that changed. She found him charming and hilarious, still a bit annoying but it added to his charm. However with all good things, they must come to an end, dinner was over and the ride home was next. The conversation was pleasant, the ride was soothing and most of all, she was having fun for the first time in years. As they pulled into the driveway, she has her door opened by Gabriel once her car is parked and she looks up at him, her eyes sparkling with the stars. She thanks him and he wraps an arm around her shoulders, the conversation resuming as if they were still at the restaurant. She didnt feel the need to pull away or have that feeling of disgust when someone she didnt like touched her. She felt safe with his touch, almost as if he was meant for her. With the final steps towards her door, she starts. "I really enjoyed the time we spent together. Thank you for taking me out tonight, this was fun!" She squeals and bounces on her heels, giving Gabriel a hug. He was a bit surprised by the hug but returned it, gently patting her back. "Of course, you only get the best with me. Im glad you had fun but you made the night worth while." He replied, leaving a kiss on her forehead and she nods. "You are so sweet, ugh I can feel the cavities now." She jokes and smiles. Now standing in front of her door, that meant that the night had to be over. She wanted to invite him inside for a few drinks, watch a movie and cuddle if he wanted too! He wanted to hold her in his arms for awhile longer, make her laugh until her sides were hurting. Despite them both wanting to keep the night going, they said their goodbyes and parted ways, their minds dancing around the possibilities of what could happen in the future.

5. FINALE! {beware there is smut here-}

The endless waves of pleasure coupled with the sound of Gabriels moans and groans were driving her crazy. Its been too long since she felt the level of pleasure he brought her, his large hands held her hips tightly as he continued to destroy her. She couldnt remember the number of orgasms that she had and he couldnt either. "Baby...O-Oh fuck...I-Im cumming again!" Rockelle whines and wraps her arms around Gabriel, her eyes rolling to the back of her head and her head pressed into the pillow. "Me too..." He groans in her ear, thrusting his hips harshly making her cry out and her legs shook with her juices spraying his abdomen. Gabriel chuckles and smirks. "Good girl..." He huskily encourages making her whimper and cover her mouth as he came deep inside of her. She pants heavily and gently grabs his head, pulling him down, taking his lips into a deep passionate kiss, his movements stopping for the moment to give them both a break. Pulling away after a few moments to catch their breath, Rockelle was a shaking and whimpering mess. Just to mess with her, Gabriel thrusts his hips forward and she yelps, pressing her hand on his chest. "Ba-baby wait Im sensitive g-give me a second." She whines and he kisses her forehead, pressing her head against his. "I know. I did that to mess with you." With that, he pulls out of her and wraps his arms around the shaking and whining neko. Her arms were still shaking as she returns the embrace. "You okay baby?" He asks, gently holding her face and wiping away the tears from her eyes. "I-Im f-fine. J-just r-re-recovering." She whispers, letting out a little whimper as Gabriel rubs her back. "I will be right back." He said, kissing her cheek and forehead before getting up and putting on his boxers. "H-Hey...where are you going?" She questioned, sitting up, looking over at him. "Im going to grab a towel and some water for you baby." He reassures and she shakes her head, opening her arms. "No...I wanna cuddle with you longer. We can get the other stuff later. Come back to bed...please?" She asks, making a pouty face and he chuckles, walking back over to her, scratching behind her ears. "Anything for my baby. Come here." He chuckles, flopping next to her and she giggles, shuffing over to him, purring away in his arms.

#i think too much; {dabbles}#trickster asshole; {gabriel}#i only have eyes for you; {gabriel and rockelle}#sexy kitten {nsfw}#{IM SORRY FOR THE DELAY I HOPE THESE ARE OKAY AAAAAA-}

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flashinaflash · 2 years

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Happily Ever After Couples’ Counseling by Lubabah Chowdhury and William Shaw

"Dr. Lochs, I can't stand it. He's obsessed with my hair."

"I see. Could you elaborate on that, Rapunzel?"

Published in our September 23, 2022 newsletter. Full story is under the cut.

Link to sign up for the newsletter is in the blog description!

"Dr. Lochs, I can't stand it. He's obsessed with my hair."

"I see. Could you elaborate on that, Rapunzel?"

Rapunzel glanced at her husband before turning back to their therapist. "He's always telling me I need to cut it short. I just don’t see the problem with keeping it long. Besides, my hair is such a big part of my identity. How would people know who I was if I cut it?"

She pulled a lock of her hair forward. Or rather, she tried to. It had become so matted and knotted, Rapunzel couldn't separate a single lock from the long trail on the floor behind her.

"I didn’t hear him complaining when it made for an easy escape. Why is he complaining now?"

"I honestly don’t care about your hair, my love," Prince Charming responded gently. "I'm more worried that you're so preoccupied with your time in the tower."

"I feel like you’re just asking me to get over it. And I can’t." Rapunzel snapped. "I was stuck in a tower for twenty years before you came along. Who would I be if not 'the girl with all the hair?'"

"What else might you like to be?" Dr. Lochs interjected.

Charming listened intently as Rapunzel talked about her love of books, house plants, herbal tea, and knitting before bed. "I think," she finally sighed, "I want to go to grad school."

Charming smiled and kissed her on the forehead. "We’ll make that happen, then.”

Dr. Lochs' second appointment for the day was with Snow White and her husband, Prince Pleasant. It took place at 2pm, as Snow White said she needed the morning to do laundry for herself, Prince Pleasant, and their seven housemates.

"All seven of them are happy to do their own laundry," Pleasant fumed. "But she just has to do it!"

"What’s the issue here?" demanded Snow White. The couple were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, avoiding eye contact. Dr. Lochs repressed a sigh.

"You know what the issue is! We’ve been talking about it since we got married!"

Snow White's jaw set threateningly, and Dr. Lochs decided to intervene.

"Why don’t you tell Snow White what you think the issue is?"

Pleasant sighed, tugging at his perfect, wavy hair. "I just feel," he said, "that the seven of them dictate our lives together."

Snow White’s jaw unlocked. "What do you want me to do, Pleasant? They’re my family. I can't just abandon them."

"I’m not asking you to! I just want to spend some time with you. Just the two of us."

Snow White softened a little more, uncrossing her arms and turning to look her husband in the eye.

"I want to spend time with you too," she said. "You're my husband, and I love you. I’m just… scared."

"Scared of what?" Pleasant took Snow White's hand as tears started to trickle down her cheeks.

"We didn’t know each other that well before we got married. What if we don’t like the same things? What if you make me go hunting? I hate hunting!"

Prince Pleasant blinked. "Darling, we’re both vegetarian."

Dr. Lochs walked over to her filing cabinet and began rummaging around. "It's important for couples to spend time together," she said. "And I have just the worksheet for you both."

It was early evening, and Dr. Lochs still had one final appointment. It had been a long day, and she couldn't wait to get home and eat dinner. She had microwaved some instant porridge at lunchtime, but she still felt a small pang of hunger as she welcomed Sleeping Beauty and her boyfriend, Prince Delightful, into her office.

"So, I believe you wanted to pick up on last week's conversation?" said Dr. Lochs. "You were deciding what to do about the fairy who cursed you?"

"That's right," said Sleeping Beauty. "I just don't think killing her is the right thing to do."

"Nor do I, sweetie," said Prince Delightful. "I've outlawed the death penalty in the kingdom. But I can't agree with your rehabilitation plan. I'm not a dungeon abolitionist."

"But think of it this way," said the princess. "She's definitely going to find a ten-year process of community service and reconciliation committees far more tortuous than a dungeon sentence. This way, we can make sure she's properly reformed and giving back to society."

"What do you think, Delightful?" asked Dr. Lochs.

"I just want her where I can keep an eye on her," he said. "I don't trust that fairy."

"I don't trust her either," said Sleeping Beauty. "But my parents learned the hard way that you can't keep people safe by locking them away. I think we need to give her a chance."

Delightful rubbed his eyes and gave a deep sigh. "OK. OK. Let’s give her a chance."

"Really?" Sleeping Beauty looped her arm through the crook of Delightful’s elbow and grinned at him. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I’m sure. I think whatever we do, it should be based on what you need."

Sleeping Beauty turned to Dr. Lochs. "Thank you, Goldie, for helping him see my side of the story."

Dr. Lochs gave a flick of her curly blonde hair and smiled at the couple. "It's not about one side or the other. That's not what I'm here for," she said. "I'm here to help you get things just right."

Lubabah Chowdhury and William Shaw are two writers living in Rhode Island, with this story as (hopefully!) the first of many collaborations.

#flash fiction #short fiction #short story #fiction #writeblr #fantasy #fairy tales #Happily Ever After Couples' Counseling #Lubabah Chowdhury #William Shaw

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fictionsmooches · 3 years

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PORCO X READER X PIECK

Plot: after a small fight with Porco, Pieck helps (y/n) get Porco jealous, while also having fun with her.

Contains: sweating, degradation, Praia, name calling ‘slut’ whore’ ect.ect., oral sex, unprotected sex, thigh riding, lesbian sex, 18+ MDNI

Word count; 3k-ish

Classes had already been out for the day, and with a long weekend around the corner, you were more than ready to get this ‘Porco issue” sorted out. Your whole life felt like it was spent between Pieck and Porco. You three had formed a bond unlike any other. You shared secrets, hopes, and protected each other on and off the battlefield.

“Look (y/n), a small fire lit under his ass wouldn’t hurt him. Besides, he’s been awfully rude to me lately. I wouldn’t mind making him a little jealous myself.” Pieck said.

All week he had been acting funny towards you. A little too funny for your comfort. It all started when you and Pieck decided to hang out without Porco. He had been taking extra lesions from Zeke as of lately, so he wouldn’t come home until late. The dorms were too quiet to be alone. Your thoughts had rang too loud to be left alone with quiet ticks of clocks to keep you company.

Pieck had no roommate since Annie left for Paradis, so you decided to have a sleepover. The two of you spent the night swapping stories of the week and laughing over nothing. It was a well needed pleasant night. However, In the morning when you arrived home you could see the hurt all over Porco’s face. He was sitting up on his bed. He faced the door. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, you knew for a fact he didn’t sleep at all last night.

“Where were you? You know you worried me to death!” he yelled standing up. His loud tone took over the whole room. It was as if nothing else existed apart from you two in this room.

“Oh I'm sorry Pock.. I don’t mean to worry you. I just got lonely waiting here for you to come back so I had a sleepover with Pieck.” you spoke softly as if to sooth him. You really didn't mean to make him worry, that was the last thing you wanted.

“Well the least you could have done was left a note.” he said brushing passed you as he walked through the still open door. His voice was cold and numb. You hated seeing this side of Porco, the cold side of him.

You could deal with his anger outbursts, you could manage the yelling or the cursing when he was upset. You could at least talk him down from that, but you can't help him when he was like this. How could you help somebody who didn't feel nothing? This was the first time he ever acted like this towards you, and it felt horrible.

Sure he yelled at Reiner and even got too snappy with Pieck every now and again- but not you. He made a habit of bragging to everyone that you’d be his wife one day and how beautiful you were whenever you weren’t around. You knew Porco was smitten for you but he never acted on it.

You waited all year for Porco to make the first move but feared he never would. Maybe it was because he wanted to live up to Marcel’s legacy. Maybe he didn’t want to ruin the friendship between you and Pieck. But it looked as though he’d never act on those feelings now.

“Pieck.. what if he never talks to me again?” you spoke as you slipped down onto Pieck’s lap. Her skirt was damp with the tears you’d been crying all day.

“I highly doubt that. You just have to show him that if he doesn’t act fast, he’ll lose you.”

You nodded and sat up. You wiped your last tear away and raised your fist.

“Ok. What’s the plan?”

Pieck slipped her arm around your waist and pulled you closer. Your thighs now touched one another as she closed in the gap between you two. She cupped her free hand over your ear, she whispered softly.

“You want me to do what?! Pieck, we aren’t little girls anymore! We can’t just ‘practice’ like we did when we were little!” you jumped slightly. She pulled you back into her grasp.

“And why not! Am I not your type?” Pieck teased.

“It’s not that” you looked away. “It’s just.. I don’t know.. Embarrassing?”

Pieck couldn’t help but giggle at your shyness. It is true that you two used to practice kissing each other when you were children. You needed to be sure that when the time came, and you married your future spouse, you’d be ready. But you were not children anymore. You couldn’t just kiss her and act like it meant nothing. After all, you had some morals left.

Sure Porco and Pieck fought about who would be the one to marry you- but you never thought anything of it. Why would you? Wasn't it natural to hold hands with your best friends? Your mind ticked and ticked until finally you could form a coherent thought. Was Pieck in love with you? And was Porco as well? How long had they been? Either way, the idea of kissing Pieck didn’t seem so far-fetched anymore.

You could hear Porcos boots clomping in the distance, he had always been so brash with his walking. You often felt bad for the poor wood floors he had walked on.

Just as the door knob turned, Pieck cupped your face and pressed her lips against yours. As soon you were connected, you could feel yourself pooling under your skirt. Pieck had begun rubbing on your thigh, and that definitely didn't help the dampness from collecting. The warmth of her mouth took over your whole body. You couldn’t help but melt into the kiss, your mouth opened slightly as Pieck shoved her tongue into yours.

You knew Porco could walk in at any moment, and the excitement of him catching you made you want to kiss Pieck even more. It felt so dirty to be like this. To have Pieck’s hand up your skirt, and to have Porco possibly see. you wouldn't dream of pulling away. It felt too good to stop now.

The moment the door actually opened, Porco just stood there- eyes wide as he watched Pieck absolutely degrade the mouth he wanted for himself. He had dreamed about parting those lips countless times. He tried to imagine if your mouth felt as good as it did in his wet dreams. His now half hard cock twitched as he watched Pieck pull away from you, a string of saliva still connecting you two.

“Good evening Pock.” she spoke with a smile as if nothing just happened.

He avoided his gaze from the two of you. “Yeah.. whatever” he said, nearly throwing his books on his desk. He took a seat as he covered his face- hoping it would make his blush less noticeable.

Pieck kissed your forehead. “I’ll see you later my sweet (y/n), i’ll be late to class.” she said walking out of your dorm with a wink. You sat breathless at what had just happened. Pieck had unlocked something so sinister in you, and you feared that simple kissing wouldn't be enough for you anymore.

As time went on you wouldnt understand how Pieck could just go along with you like nothing happened. You walked to class together as usual, ate lunch like you usually would- but in the back of your mind the only thing you could think about was Pieck. You craved her touch on your body. You longed for her hands and for her mouth, but you wanted Porco’s gaze upon you just as much.

“Uhh Earth to (y/n)?” Pieck said waving her hand in front of you. You had spaced out at the table you had been studying at. Porco sat at your left and Pieck across from you.

“I’m sorry. I just got lost in thought!” You rubbed the back of your head In embarrassment.

The stuffy room you sat in, had once been dedicated to strategizing wars and battles but the campus had now converted them into study halls for students. You weren’t sure if the weather made the room feel humid or if you had imagined it to distract yourself from forming tension between you three.

Large windows covered the walls of the room, the sunlight coming in gave you a clear view of everything in the room. The tables were old and worn, chairs wobbled ever so slightly, and the books on the shelf were slowly collecting dust as years went by.

“Is it hot in here?” You ask aloud, fanning yourself with your hand.

“I’m sure it is, and these uniforms don’t help out any.” Pieck smiled was she pulled her book away from her face.

Porco slid his hand on your thigh from under the table, he snickered as he turned the page of his book with his other hand.

You gulped quietly.

“Yeah I’m getting tired of all these layers, I wish I could peel off a few, don’t you Pieck?” Porco said as his hand gilded under your skirt, calloused hands rubbed small circles on your inner thighs. You were being too obvious, you had always been too obvious.

Pieck caught on quickly to the soft movements Porco made under the table and your breath heaving. Her eyes made their way to your warm cheeks with a smirk.

“I understand completely, Porco.” Pieck looked directly in your eyes “It’s almost like I could undress entirely right now.” she began fiddling with the top buttons of her shirt.

You could feel it happening again. The wetness starting to build between your legs was unbearable.

You were practically gasping for air as Porco’s hand slowly started making its way closer and closer to your clothed cunt. Your clit ached with the thought of his touch. All sense of shame was gone at this point. Pieck’s shirt was half way opened at this point. The bits of her lace bra were exposed more and more with every bottom she slowly undid.

You couldn’t tell if your arousal came more from Piecks undressing or from Porcos touch, but at this point it didn't matter, you only knew you needed more. You wished to be laid against Pieck’s chest as Porco bent you over the wooden table, just imagining it made you bucked your hips in desperation for more friction. Porco slowly placed the pad of his middle and ring finger against your clit.

He withdrew his hand entirely as you let out a soft moan.

“It’s almost time for dinner, we gotta get going if we want to beat the crowd.” Porco said, looking at the clock on the wall.

“Right! Best if we leave now.” Pieck said with a devilish smile as she began buttoning up her shirt.

The two left you there panting for air, and longing for hands all over your body. The light of golden hour stained the room with warm hues. Your mind raced with what had just happened, and why you were left hot and bothered. Your legs spread open on the chair you had been sitting it, a small puddle laid under you.

The next day You woke to an empty dorm. Porco had been long gone at training. You knew you would have most of the day to yourself but today your mind raced with thought of Pieck and Porco. At times you shifted your weight to distract yourself from the overwhelming thoughts you craved.

It wasn’t long before a knock at the door sent a shiver up your spine that jolted you to sit up.

“(Y/N)?” Pieck called as she let herself in. “I assume Porcos is training?”

You nodded.

“Ooh so you’re all alone?” Pieck’s tone sounded sultry like she was alluding to something. You felt the heat rising in your face.

She made her way over to your bed. Her foot steps echoed in the room with every step she took. She took a seat on your bed. And leaned over to your ear.

“Have you been thinking of me?”

You avoided looking at her. “Maybe” you answered

“Or have you been thinking of Porco?” She asks nibbling at your ear lobe. Your breath couldn’t help but deepen.

“Maybe” you answer again

Pieck pulled away and repositioned herself. She was now sitting with her back fully against the wall, her legs laid out over the length of the bed.

“Come here (y/n). I want you to show me the way you want to grind on Porcos lap” she lifted her skirt to expose her thighs. She looked so soft from where you sat.

You don’t think twice about straddling her thigh. Your clothed cunt made contact with her soft skin sending a shiver down your spine. Piecks hand found their place on your ass with a squeeze.

“Such a desperate little whore you’ve become. You get one kiss from me and a half assed teasing from Porco, and you’re so eager to do as I say?” She squeezed your ass again only this time more rougher.

You could only moan in response.

Pieck had begun dragging you back and forth on her thigh, pleasure rippled through your body.

“Unbutton your shirt for me”

You hesitated. “What if Porco comes back early?” You whined

“Don’t act like you don’t want him to see you like this. Now unbutton your shirt”

She lifted her leg to make more friction between you and her thigh.

You did as you were told and undid every button to the best of your ability given the circumstances.

“No bra? You really are a whore (y/n)!”

You moaned at her words, your pussy was leaking all over her thigh as you rode her.

Pieck placed your nipple in her mouth and began to suck.

“Fuck-!” You say throwing your head back

She slapped your ass making you moan louder.

Her mouth felt amazing wrapped around the sensitive bud, sending shockwaves through your entire body.

She looked up at you through her eyelashes. She looked as though she was smiling as she sucked on your nipple, she knew what she was doing.

The knot in your stomach had started to tighten.

“Pieck! You’re going to make me cum!”

She pulled away. Without saying anything, she pulled your panties to the side, giving your cunt direct contact with her.

“Cum for me then” she said looking in your eyes.

Your hips moved at a rapid pace as you released on her thigh with a scream.

You were so busy with Pieck that you didn’t even notice Porcos boots clomping down the hallway. By the time you noticed he was already opening the door.

He stepped into the most unexpected but beautiful sight. You say still straddling Piecks thigh, gasping with your tits out. Your cum and sweat covered your body and Piecked thigh, your skirt hiked up over your ass and piecks hands holding on the back of your thighs.

Pieck peered her head to the side “hi Pock!”

You couldn’t help but feel so embarrassed and exposed.

Porcos cock twitched with excitement.

“So this is what you do while I’m off working my ass off?” He says while slicking his hair back more.

You were speechless. When you decided to speak all you could manage to say was “I’m sorry- I couldn’t help myself! I just-“

“Just what? Decided to act like a slut and think I wouldn’t find out?” Porco says.

Your clit jumped with excitement.

Pieck shifted her weight so you lay elbows to the bed with your ass in the air. Pieck guided her hands to your panties and slid them off of you. She spread your ass cheeks and pussy lips for Porcos full view.

“Look Porco, she’s just begging to be filled” Pieck smiled up at you.

You could hear Porco’s zipper being undone behind you.

“She sure is. But I want to hear that from her” he grinned, stroking his cock. The tip was wet with precum already. He stroked as your hole fluttered with excitement.

“Please Porco! Please, I need it!” You said.

“Tell me princess, what do you need?”

Pieck reached her hand underneath to rub your clit.

You gasp nearly being able to talk, “I need you to fuck me Porco! Please fuck me!” You choke out.

“Good girl” he said as he slowly pushed the tip of his hard cock inside. “Mmm.. so fucking wet already” he shoved the enteier length inside you.

You moaned against piecks mouth as she kissed you. Her tongue once again shoving its way into your mouth.

While Porco took his time fucking your tight hole, you slid lower to make contact with Pieck’s lower half. She giggled at the sight of you being so eager to please her. “Here, ill help you.” She said lowering her panties.

You wasted no time lapping up every once of Piecks oozing pussy. She collapsed into the this matress as you attacked her clit.

Piecks moaning caught the attention of Porco. “L-Like what you see Pock? Her mouth feels amazing on my pussy.” Pieck said, smirking.

“I always knew (y/n) would be the perfect little slut.” Porco said speeding up his thrust into your sloppy tight cunt. You moaned against Piecks clit, squeezing down on Porco’s cock in response to his degrading words.

Slowly you added two fingers into Piecks slit. “Better do a good job (y/n), or I wont let you cum” Porco said slowing his pace. You wasted no time proving at her g-spot. Pieck moaned in delight.

“Good girl.” Pieck said in between moans.

You couldn’t go on much long like this. You needed release and you needed it bad. Porco could tell you where close by the way you began clamping down on his cock.

Pieck was the first to cum as she held a fist full of your hair “(y/n)! You’re gunna make me cum” she exclaimed. She lay breathless on the bed for a moment as Porco kept thrusting into you.

Pieck seized the opportunity to reach under and rub your clit. Pieck’s soft fingertips where enough to send you over the edge. “Porco! I’m coming!” You screamed.

“I’m close (y/n).. where do you want me to finish?” He choked

“Don’t be shy now (y/n) Answer him” Pieck said.

“Inside!” You yelled feeling over stimulated.

“Fuck!” Porco said as he raised inside of you, your pussy drank up every drop of his cum.

You three laid squished against one another, sweat and cum covering your bodies

#porco x reader #aot smut #Pieck x reader #porco x reader smut #Pieck x reader smut #x reader #jean x reader #erwin smith x reader #reiner x reader #attack on titan #smut #x reader smut #attack on titan smut

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theoreticslut · 3 years

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Summer Lovin’

pairing: fred weasley x reader

requested: no

word count: 3.5k

warnings: smut

A/N: Hi. I hope this is good because i had the idea and just had to write it. Like i’ve mentioned before, I’ve written smut and steamy scenes before, but nothing that I’ve ever really posted and I truly have no idea what i’m doing so I just feel like it’s really bad. Like I’ve debated with myself for a week if wanted to post this or not and finally decided to just go for it and see what happens with it. So, yeah, I hope you like it. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated (even if you want to send me your comments through an anon ask). Just let me know what’s good or what could be better, yeah? & also, just want to through it out there again that I am taking requests (check out my holiday prompt list) as well as doing a sleepover event for the next week or so in celebration of 300 followers <3 Take advantage of it! Xx

Taglist: @justmesadgirl @xuckduck @yikesyikesyikes95 @filipi-yes @aestheticwh0r3 @siredkai @matsuno-nadeshiko @msmarklee1213 @immajustreadwritereblog @msmimimerton @lauren2408 @mischievous-queen @bunnyboo7 @grandeoptimist @kaitlynw011 @daddystevee @slytherinxhunter @streetfighterrichie @sarcasticallywitty15 @isthereanymorejello

^let me know if you’d like to be added/removed! (& pls let me know if you’re 18+/comfortable with being tagged in smut) Xx

It had been a rough summer to say the least...at least in Fred’s opinion. He absolutely loved having you stay at the burrow, having been best friends with you since first year, but it truly was quite torturous at times.

He had long ago realized he had feelings for you, but pushed them away in fear of risking your friendship. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you as a friend, but godrick was it hard to keep pretending he wasn’t totally attracted and in love with you.

Watching you go around all summer in your tight, high-waisted shorts with your shirts tied into a knot to show your stomach was difficult to say the least. Even worse than that, seeing you in a bikini the handful of times you all went swimming.

You were beyond attractive and it was driving him mad seeing you in such minimal clothing.

The absolute worst outfit of yours to drive him insane, however, was your pajamas. Having known you were staying the entire summer at the burrow, you had many variations of pajamas, but they were all much too attractive to Fred.

He loved when you wore your short pajama shorts, usually landing just past your ass, along with a thin, baggy tee. He would never admit it to anyone, as he was much too embarrassed by it, but he couldn’t help but look at your chest when you wore a shirt like that for bed.

He knew you weren’t doing it for him by any means, but you never wore a bra to bed and you’d often cross your arms over your stomach when you’d encounter him. The action pushing your breasts up and into the thin fabric where he couldn’t help but imagine what your chest looked liked underneath. He nearly came in his pants the first few times he caught a glimpse of your hardened nipples through the shirt when it had been a bit of a cooler night.

Currently, he has locked himself in the bathroom away from his family as he has a major erection that won’t go away. He knows it’s not you’re fault, but you are certainly the reason behind this.

Having been one of the hotter days this summer, you had all decided you would spend the day swimming, which was fine, except for the fact that you wore a new bikini you must have gotten one of the days you had gone shopping with his sister and hermione.

It was absolutely stunning on you, but it created quite an issue for him. It was so tiny; covering your front, but essentially becoming a thong in the back. Not to mention it was extremely high cut, which elongated your already beautiful legs and accentuated the curves you had grown into magnificently. And then the top was literally just a strip of fabric, a bandeau he had heard you call it, but it just barely covered your breasts and it drove him wild.

The colour of it was phenomenal too, a dusty blue shade that complimented your skin tone perfectly. On top of all of that, you had your hair tied back into messy pigtails which somehow worked perfectly together even though it contradicted your outfit. Seeing you with pigtails was adorable and made you look so sweet and innocent, yet seeing you in that swimsuit brought on ideas that weren’t innocent in the slightest.

Then you had a spattering of freckles on your cheeks and shoulders that had reappeared after being in the sun this summer, which Fred just found intoxicatingly beautiful.

He had tried so hard to keep his thoughts clean, but then you had to go and ask him to help you apply sunblock to your back. He was doing so good, but then smearing the thick white cream across your back had him imagining all sorts of different scenarios.

It had only continued into nightfall as well. You all decided you wanted to do s’mores and hang out around a bonfire tonight after spending the late afternoon and early evening playing quidditch and then having a bbq dinner.

You had changed out of your swimsuit into a pair of jean shorts and an oversized hoodie, which in reality wasn’t the problem. Truthfully, it was the way Fred’s mind decided to work when looking at you.

He couldn’t help but wonder if you wearing a bra under the hoodie, knowing from you and his sister mentioning it that you girls didn’t like wearing a bra more than you had to.

And then his mind would start to wonder what your skin felt like having had sunblock put on you and swimming. He wondered if your skin would feel soft and maybe a bit warmer than it should as it looked to him that you had gotten a very slight sunburn.

And in general he just couldn’t help but get turned on by how attractive you were sitting there in an oversized hoodie - that could be his if he’d own up to his feelings. He couldn’t help but notice how adorable you were with your cheeks spattered with freckles and tinted pink from the sun, not to mention how happy you looked as you smiled and laughed along with your friends and his siblings.

He had finally excused himself after you locked eyes with him after one of his brothers told a funny story, biting your lip to keep from smiling so much. That was the last bit for him. It drove him crazy imagining what you’d look like biting your lip as you tried to contain your moans as he pounded into you. He had been holding on all summer and he just couldn’t push his thoughts away tonight.

So here he sat locked in the bathroom, trying to get his erection to go away but realizing he needed to relieve himself if he had any hope of getting rid of it.

He was honestly embarrassed, not wanting to jack off in the bathroom over his best friend while you were literally downstairs in his backyard.

He groaned as his cock twitched at the thought of you down there. He wanted you so bad that it was physically hurting him at the moment.

He sighs, slowly palming himself over his trousers just to relieve some of the discomfort. He really really didn’t want to fully masturbate right here right now. It was just too awkward.

He groaned as he touched himself, picturing your beautiful face smiling at him, his hips jerking forward when he recounted how gorgeous you were biting your lip.

Before he realized it he had his hand in his trousers, rubbing himself as he recounted all the times he had found you breathtaking this summer.

He groaned as he pictures you in your pajamas, your nipples visible through the thin material of your shirt. He groaned as he imagined you in your high waisted shorts that seemed to just barely cover your ass and accented your thighs that he would love to grab ahold of. He groaned, his eyes shutting tight as he pictured you in your bikinis, you ass essentially on show and your breasts not far behind.

“Oh fuck, y/n” he moaned, trying so desperately to be quiet.

~.~

You frowned when you realized Fred hadn’t come back yet. He never mentioned where he was going, but you were sure he wouldn’t have gone to bed already. Not at least without telling you guys so.

You figure you’ll go looking for him, especially since you wanted to grab another glass of water anyway.

You frown when you don’t see him in the living room or kitchen. Lost in your thoughts you decide to make your way upstairs just to see if he had maybe laid down for a bit.

Not finding him in his room you sigh. Where could the boy possibly be? It’s not like he could just vanish.

You stop when you hear, what you think is, groaning. Was Fred groaning? What for and where?

Slowly you follow the sounds to the bathroom and you let out a breath. At least you know where he is. You go to walk away just as he lets out a particularly loud groan, and it didn’t sound pleasant.

You knock gently on the door, frowning. You hoped he was okay.

Not hearing an answer you knock again, this time a little louder as you call out to him.

“Hey, Freddie. Are you alright?”

~.~

Fred stops, cheeks and ears burning in embarrassment. How bloody unlucky is he to have the girl he’s been masturbating to knock on the door as he’s still jerking himself off?

“Freddie?” He hears you ask again.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, y/n. Everything’s good.” He sweats, trying so hard to not let his voice betray him.

He’s still so hard and turned on, all he really wants to do is bend you over the sink here and fuck you senseless. He wants you a moaning mess underneath him, begging for him to let you cum.

“Are you sure? You don’t sound good.”

“Y-yeah. I’m sure.”

He’s trying so hard to not let a groan out at hearing your voice and imagining what he could be doing to you right now. Unfortunately he lets one slip out which is more than enough for you to keep pressing.

“Fred weasley, if you don’t convince me that your good in the next few minutes I am coming in there to check on you. You sound sick.”

“I-I’m fine, y/n. Promise. Just p-please don’t come in here.” He nearly cries, thoroughly embarrassed by the situation, but wanting to continue so badly. He’s been so worked up this summer and it’s finally caught up with him.

You frown hearing how troubled he sounds. You can’t just leave him alone - what if he’s sick? Maybe he ate something bad or got too much sun today? You needed to see for yourself that he was okay.

You tell yourself that’s why you mumble alohomora and gently push open the door, making you way inside.

“Y/n! What are you doing?! P-please go.” Fred urges, trying to cover himself before you turn around to face him.

“Not until I know your alright. What’s wro-oh...” you trail off, taking in the sight in front of you.

If your not mistaken, you just walked in on your best friend masturbating. He was beyond flushed, mostly due to embarrassment at being caught, though. Not to mention how messy he looked; his hair messed up from him throwing his head back, his shirt all scrunched up on his chest, and his pants pulled down around his thighs.

You blush as you take in the sight, yet your not able to look away, probably because you’re so shocked and embarrassed yourself.

“I am so so sorry, Freddie. Uh, let me just leave you alone.” You tumble out, quickly turning back towards the door.

“Y/n, wait.” He calls, furiously flushing at the thought that passes through his head. “C-could you please help me?” He stutters out.

“H-help you? How?” You gulp, turning to face him with your face flushed.

“I, uh, I can’t get myself t-to finish. I need more.”

You gape at him, he’s asking you to get him off. Your best friend of six years, who you may have a tiny bit of a crush on, is asking you to get him off.

While the thought excites you, it also makes you beyond nervous. Sure you and the twins were close and flirted around with each other jokingly, but you’ve never once actually made any advancements with each other.

“I know it’s awkward, but I could really use the help.” He mumbles.

“O-okay. Uh, well let me see.”

You bite your bottom lip, completely embarrassed as he stretches himself out again, slowly moving his hand from himself.

You can barely hold back a groan as you take in the look of his cock all red and erect, precum oozing from the tip. It looks absolutely delicious and you forget about the fact that it’s your best friends.

Cautiously you take him in your hand, kneeling in between his legs as he sits on the toilet.

“Oh godrick,” he groans as your hand wraps around his member, the difference in touch enough to make him even harder.

“You’re so pretty, Fred.” You mumble, sliding your hand down his cock, watching as more precum beads at his tip. Gently you swipe your thumb across his slit, drawing a deep groan from inside him.

“Do more. Please, y/n. Please.” He begs, his head falling backwards as his eyes clench shut.

You smirk, loving the reaction your getting from him. Never in a million years did you think you be kneeling here in the burrow’s bathroom jerking your best friend off, but here you were and you were loving every second of it.

Becoming more confident at the sounds he’s letting out, you bring your mouth to him, licking your tongue over his tip.

“Oh fuck. Y/n, sweetheart. Please, please.” Fred groans, his hips jutting up towards your face.

“Please what, Freddie. Tell me what you want your best friend to do to you.”

He groans, jutting his hips yet again at your words. He knows how filthy this situation is. Even though he loves you, you two aren’t anything more than friends and yet here you are ready to suck him off. He knows how wrong it is, yet at the same time it feels far too good to stop.

“Come on, Freddie, love. Tell me what you want.” You coo, slowly licking up and down his cock, paying attention to the vein on the underside of him as well as the edge of his head.

“I-I want your mouth, princess. I want your lips around me.” He groans, trying to watch you as you smile and bring your head closer to him.

“Good boy, Freddie. Very good.” You praise as take him in your mouth, feeling the weight against your tongue and swallowing around him to see how difficult it was.

“Fuck, princess.” He groans, throwing his head back as you do so.

You smirk and swallow around him again before sinking your head down on him more to the point of him hitting your throat.

Fred moans, grabbing at your hair that you had taken out of the braids from earlier.

“Fuck me, y/n. Please. I want you so bad.” Fred nearly cries, tugging at your hair.

You pull off of him, a string of saliva staying connected for a few seconds as he juts his hips into the air.

“You want me around you, baby. Is that what you said?” You ask, kissing at his neck.

“You want to be inside me while I ride you?”

“Yes. Yes, please, princess. Please.”

You chuckle at his neediness, leaving a few more kisses you neck as you stand up.

Slowly you unbutton your bottoms, sliding them down your legs as Fred watches lazily, his cock twitching at seeing you undressing.

“Like what you see, baby?”

“I love it.” Fred growls, eyeing you as you slip your panties down.

You don’t bother with your hoodie as it won’t be in the way. That and you don’t have a shirt or bra on underneath it and your not quite comfortable being completely naked in front of your best friend.

“You ready, baby? You ready for me to sit on your big cock?”

Fred groans, loving your dirty talk. He never would have imagined you taking charge during sex, but then again he never imagined that he would be begging you to get him off. Even though this isn’t quite what he had been imagining, it was still better than nothing. In fact, he almost thought this was better.

“Freddie, baby. You have to tell me what you’re thinking.” You urge, straddling him, but not yet sliding down on him.

“Yes. Yes, I’m ready. I want you to sit in my big cock, princess. I want my best friend to ride me.” He groans, grabbing a hold of your waist as you grind against him, spreading your wetness on his cock. It makes him proud to feel how wet you are, he’s only hoping all of it was because of him.

“Good job, Freddie.” You smile, kissing his collarbones as you slide yourself onto his cock, moaning out at how amazing it feels.

He was just big enough to stretch you out and it felt amazing. You honestly wished you had done this sooner.

“Oh fuck, baby. You feel so good. Feel so good inside me.” You moan, bouncing on his cock as he guides your hips.

“Ohh, Freddie. Right there.” You groan as he rubs right against the spot you need him.

“You like that, princess? You like riding your best friends cock? You love the way I’m filling you up?”

“Yes, Freddie. Love it. Love you and your cock. Feels so, so good.” You groan, arching your back as he hits a spot inside you.

“Oh godrick, y/n.” Fred groans, wrapping his arms around you as he pulls you closer to him, his cock twitching happily inside you as your walls clench around him.

“Are you going to cum, Freddie? Going to fill up your best friends pussy with your cum?”

“I know how much you want to.” You whisper in his ear, nibbling at the lobe.

“Oh, fuck. Yes, princess. I want to fill you with my cum. I want to fill you so bad. Please let me, princess. Please.”

“I’m all yours, Freddie.” You smile dreamily, groaning as he juts up into you, his cock twitching.

“Oh, fuuuuck.” He groans, shooting his load inside you as you let out a high pitched whine as you hit your high along with him.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, princess.”

“That was amazing, Freddie. Do you feel better now?” You ask, breathily heavily into his shoulder as you slump against him.

“So much better, princess. Thank you.”

You smile, nodding lazily as you catch your breath. Now that you’re finished, your not quite sure what to do. Was this just a one time thing? What does this mean for you two? Does this change anything?

“Stop thinking.” Fred chuckles, wrapping his arms around you as your still sitting on him.

“Can’t help it, Freddie.”

“You’re such a worry wart. We literally just had sex, hell my dick is still inside you, and you’re mind is already five steps ahead.”

“Does this change anything for us?”

“I would hope so. You’re the reason I was so worked up in the first place, y/n.” He chuckles, pushing your hair out of your face as you look at him.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. You are so bloody sexy without even trying and it drives me mad. I love having you here this summer, but Merlin has it been torture.”

“Yeah? How so, weasley?” You ask, leaning back and moaning as you forgot he was still inside you.

“If I tell you, we’re going to have to go for a round two; just thinking about you gets me hard.”

“And as much as I’d love to fuck you senseless, my siblings and our friends are probably wondering where we went off to.” Fred says, grinding your hips down into him.

You moan softly, your eyes shutting at the pleasure he’s bringing you.

“So, it’s your choice, sweetheart. We can either go downstairs and pretend that nothing just happened up here, or we can makeup some excuse to explain our absence and we can go continue this in percy’s old room. What do you want to do?”

You whine, not liking how much control he has over you right now. He’s got ahold of your hips, slowly grinding you down into him with his cock still inside you, and he’s letting you make the decision which is the last thing you want to do right now.

“What is it going to be, princess?” He coaxed, kissing at your neck as you had done to him earlier.

“Ohhhh fuck, Freddie. I hate you.” You groan, hating that he’s making you choose.

“I want you.” You moan, burying your face into his chest as it screws up in pleasure.

“Yeah? You want me to go fuck you in percy’s room? You want me to wreck your pussy and fill it with my cum again?”

“Yes, Freddie. Please.”

He smirks, kissing your forehead as he lifts you off of his dick.

“Alright, princess. You get your shorts on and go up to percy’s room. I’m going to go tell everyone that you got a migraine and that I’m going to keep an eye on you for awhile, yeah? I’ll be right up there.”

“I love you, Freddie.” You mumble.

“I love you too, princess. Now go. I’ll be up in a minute. No touching yourself, okay?”

You whine, but nod when he gives you a look. You’ve been wanting him for years and now he’s going to leave you like this after you just rode him? Granted he’ll be back, but you don’t want to wait. If he doesn’t hurry back, you might just have to do what he told you not to.

————————

Part 2 !!

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley smut #fred weasley fanfic #hp imagine #hp smut #hp fanfic #smut

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mha-platonic-yanderes · 3 years

Text

Settling In: Parentals

Inspired by @i-cant-sing and their Yandere Todoroki Clan AU

The room is pink. Well, it’s mostly pink. It’s pink with white furniture and embellishments. The closet doors are white and so is the windowsill. The floor is hardwood brown. But everything else is a bubblegum pink.

You’d prefer another color, one that wasn’t so bright and grating to the eyes. But you don’t say that. You just fiddle with your one dufflebag’s handle. This is all you have left, after bouncing around from group home to group home. A year ago—when your parents died—you had thrice as much. Now this and the backpack for schoolwork is all you have left.

“Do you like it?” The mother of this house and wife to the current number one hero, asks you a question. He’s not here; nobody’s here except you two. The house seems too big for three people, but there are pictures on the wall of others. It doesn’t look lived in; there is no semblance of a family. Though, the pictures on the wall show a six person family. It shows that there are four more people here and you get your own room. In a house with now seven people, you get your own room and you aren’t giving it up.

Despite the pink color and the vast emptiness, you answer honestly, “Yeah, I do.” You do like it, even if it's not for the right reasons

Her hands are on your shoulder. You can feel the increased pressure on one side lift up, almost as if she’d been purposefully holding onto you too tight.

“Good. Now, let’s unpack.” She gracefully takes the bag out of your hand, setting it atop the bed. You sit down alongside it, opening your backpack. A couple of notebooks, pencils, and two textbooks sit inside.

You start to stand, heading to take the materials to the desk they’ve provided. Though, whilst holding a pair of pajamas—slightly too little but in [y/f/c]—she takes the books out of your hand.

“Just relax, [Y/N].” Rei replies, “Let me handle it.”

You sit on the bed twiddling with your blouse’s edge. You wore your best outfit, even though it was just your school uniform, without the frumpy sweater.

The bed is insanely soft. With satin sheets, a thick, fluffy comforter, and a healthy amount of pillows, it's easily the softest place you’ve been.

“I’ll have a driver return your school books back to your former school.” Rei replies, on the other side of the room. You shift to look at her, but she has her back turned to you. “I’ll discuss with my husband what school to place you at.”

“Alright.” You’ve had to transfer schools about three times since last year. Moving again isn’t a hassle anymore. You know not to hope you won’t move again. Though. you know not to get attached to anything in case you have to—in case this doesn’t work out.

“We’ll get you a better education than the one you were definitely receiving.” You can hear the gentle thump of one of your textbooks. She heads back to your duffle bag; it’s now half empty. “My eldest three all went to Somei Private Academy for junior high. Two ended up continuing through highschool as well. My eldest went to Shiketsu and my youngest is in Yuuei now.”

You know those schools. They’re expensive, private academies. You’ve only ever been in public schools. The wealth was obvious when you were picked up in a blackened car with a driver. You just didn’t expect them to spend that money on you, a lowly orphan.

“Or we’ll just hire a set of tutors like we did for our youngest before he went to Yuuei.” She decides what to hang up or fold. You’ll have to go through it all later to find everything. Luckily, you don’t own much—or unluckily, depends on how you look at it. But you don’t dwell on the issue long, responding quickly to the lady, “Alright.”

She smiles at you. It’s sincere, motherly. It’s what your mother would’ve done, before the accident. It’s something you sorely missed since then.

“You’re extremely agreeable, aren’t you?” She finishes out the bag, pressing it into the top of your closet. Your backpack gets sat beside the desk. This room is large and your things are set in its appropriate places across from it.

“I guess.”

“That’s a good thing, darling.” She goes to mess with your hair, “Now, for dinner tonight, let's change you into something a bit nicer, yes?”

You pause, looking at your toes in their pristine white socks. You can see her legs as well, considering how close she is to you, “This is the nicest thing I own.”

“That’s fine. We’ll just have to go shopping for some new things.” Rei replies, taking her other hand to your chin, forcing you to look her in the eyes, “Enji and I know what we are getting ourselves into, buying you a whole new wardrobe will be nothing.”

She takes her hands from your head and into your hands, helping you up.

“Where are we going?” She leads you back from your room to the rest of the house.

“Shopping, darling.” Rei replies, “We have five hours to do so, before I must start dinner, that is. Is there anything you want?”

“No, not really.” She’s already planning to drop a substantial amount of money on you and she’s already being incredibly maternal. You aren’t going to stretch that patience thin and have her snap already. You aren’t going to ruin this for yourself.

She smiles at you, “I’ll figure out what you like soon enough.”

===

The shopping mall standing in front of you was not where you usually would’ve gone. A basic department store, maybe a strip mall if you’re lucky would be where you usually shopped. This place however, is at least four stories high standing stark white and black against the almost colorless blue-grey sky. Though, you don’t get to admire it long. Rei quickly pulls you out of the cold outdoors and into the perfectly heated building.

“Now, I say we head to clothing stores first and then to more home goods type stores, so we don’t have to pack the heavy stuff around. Though, if we get too much to carry, we can send it back to the car and then continue shopping.” Rei replies, “Is that alright?”

You nod, still reluctantly going along this whole situation. The car is actually a limo and you have your own room in a massive estate. You have an impossibly nice and maternal caretaker who’s insanely rich. This is your “Annie” moment; this is your fairytale scenario. The shoe has to drop at some point. You aren’t going to be blindsided when it does.

“Good.” She locks arms with you, holding you close. It’s weird, but not entirely uncomfortable. You want to trust her. Your sense of judgement is clouded, knowing that she can’t really be this nice, but you want her to be like this

She leads you into a clothing store, taking you to the brightly colored section. Rei silently holds a peach colored sweater up to you. She grabs an orange skirt, looking at them both together.

“What do you think of this?” She asks, holding them up together. The sweater is thick,

assumedly warm. The skirt however, isn’t,. You tell her that.

“That’s what some white stockings are for [y/n].” She laughs lightly, “and please call me Rei. You don’t have to be so formal.”

“Alright... Rei.” Acclimating to her is easy. At the moment, you don’t care what the rest of her family is like, she’s nice and maternal and everything you miss from your own mother.

She grabs multiple sweater and skirt combinations, not grabbing a single pair of pants for you. This store doesn’t sell tee shirts or blouses, sticking to a younger, but put together catalog. You briefly entertain the idea of them being traditionalists, but you don’t mind that. You’ve lived in worse houses than one with conservative ideals.

And besides, the outfits are cute. You hope you can keep them if everything goes south.

“Put these on.” She hands you the clothing, “and I want to see every outfit you try on. I want to see if it looks good.”

The fitting rooms are nicer than any you’ve ever been to. When checking the price of the items she’s handed to you, you can see why. The least expensive thing is a 10,000 yen skirt. It’s plain blue, just like the 1,500 yen one you have on now. It's obviously of higher quality, but guilt pangs in your chest at the thought of her spending so much money on you. This is at least a dozen items in here.

You slip it on, alongside the white sweater, filled with gold stars. You look at yourself in the mirror, before heading out the door. Rei sits in a chair, looking at you.

“You look absolutely adorable.” Rei comments, “We’re keeping it.”

She doesn’t let you put your input in. But she’s paying for it, so you don’t complain.

Five more times, you come out in sweater and skirt combinations. She has nothing but praise for each outfit. It’s refreshing. Your last home was less than pleasant.

Rei leaves you to change back into your uniform. All six outfits are bought and placed into two bags, both on her arm away from you. She wraps her other arm into the crook of your arm.

“Onto the next store we go.”

As you all head to a different floor of the mall, you voice concerns you originally had back in the dressing room, “You know… you don’t have to spend so much money on me.” You tell her, then backtrack, “Not that I’m not grateful! I am really! It’s just that I don’t need stuff this fancy, you know?”

“[Y/N], I am your mother now. It’s my duty to get you clothes and stuff.” She says it with a certainty that is oddly comforting. Everything about her is that way, from her soft, smooth skin to her warm, grey eyes to her bright, white smile. She’s intensely maternal, something that you didn’t realize you wanted anymore, until today, “and we must keep you up to the Todoroki standard. After all, you’re going to be one of us for now on.”

Being one of them. You don’t know of any Todorokis; you’ve never been a huge fan of heroes like some of your peers. But belonging, that’s something you’ve craved since it was ripped away from you. A family—that’s what you’ve always wanted.

“All right.”

“Chin up, shoulders back.” She tells you, “You’re new life begins tonight.”

===

Rei never let you carry a single bag throughout your trip. She also wouldn’t let you see any of the receipts or let you have a final word on anything you got. But, you got all nice things—all things you like. So, you don’t mind.

“Change into the white dress with the red and pink roses.” She instructs, “And redo your hair. First impressions are important, after all.”

You haven’t met her husband, nor any of her children. But, as the pictures on the wall show, her husband is Endeavor, the number one hero. Usually you’d meet the person fostering you beforehand, but with his affluence, there needed to be no meetings beforehand.

Following her instructions, you rifle through the bags, finding the dress she wanted you to wear. Slipping out of your old clothes and into the cold, expensive dress is a quick process. Doing your hair to a standard that would make her proud, is not. Eventually you get it right.

Unlike earlier, you take the time to unbag your stuff. You mimic what Rei did in your closet. Shirts, sweaters and dresses are hung up. Skirts, leggings, and stockings are folded in the dresser. The shoes are placed on the inside of your closet. The few decorations you got are placed so that they don’t move what Rei and her husband already got you. She’s extremely peculiar about order. You won’t break that order.

“[Y/N].” She knocks on the door that doesn’t lock, “What’s taking you so long. Do you need help?”

You open the door for her, “I was just putting everything away, Rei.”

She comes in, looking at the room. She pulls the draws out and reopens the closet door, looking inside them. It’s an inspection, to see if everything is up to code.

Rei pinches your cheek, “ It’s perfect, exactly how I imagined it.”

Perfect. She’s praising your work. The word warms your heart, bringing a smile to your face. You haven’t gotten enough praise in your life, clearly.

“Thank you.”

“Now come on.” She tugs at your wrist, “Enji will be here any moment and I need help plating the table. Usually Fuyumi would do it, but you’ll meet my other children at a later date. Tonight is just about you, me, and Enji.”

“Alright.” Relief settles from your scrunched up soldiers. You only have to meet one new person, not five like you assumed. One person is better than five people—even if he is the #1 Hero.

You’re led back through the sitting room and into the dining room. It’s nice, well lit. It’s low to the ground and cushioned. You’ve expected this from this house. Every room besides your own is extremely traditional. You expected the whole house to be like this, once you walked through the doors.

“The plates and cups are in the left cabinet, do be careful with them.” Rei points to a side room, at the back of the dining room, “I’ll bring in the cutlery. Enji should be here soon.”

As if on cue, you hear the front door being opened. A low voice calls out, “Rei, darling? [Y/N]?”

You freeze, plates and cups in hand. Something about the number one hero calling out of your name unsettles you. Though, somehow immediately aware of your apprehension, Rei places a cold hand against your back. You can feel it through the dress, which isn’t surprising, considering how thin it is.

“We’re in the dining room, honey.” Rei takes the plates and cups from your hands, placing them down and simultaneously leading you to your seat. You sit, legs together and bent to the side. You sit currently in the seat to the left of the table’s end.

The number one hero—Rei’s husband—kisses her cheek. He towers over her. She was waiting for him at the entrance. You try not to make any noise; you try not to interrupt them.

She heads to the seat across from you, leaving Endeavor to sit at the head of the table. You aren’t surprised; this family gives of very traditional vibes. He radiates heat to your right, still aflame, showing off his powerful quirk.

The food is already on the table. It’s more than enough for the three people here, possibly more than enough for the six people in the photos—plus yourself. You make your own plate, only getting what you know you’ll eat. You don’t want to take too much, you don’t want to be greedy.

“Make sure you actually get full, [Y/N].” Rei smiles at you. It’s warm and soft.

“I am, Miss.” You can feel Endeavor staring at you, but you don’t look at him. You shift your head down, looking at the plate in front of you. You don’t grab more; you don’t want to ruin their hospitality with your selfishness.

Rei and Endeavor talk to themselves, mostly about work. They occasionally talk about three other people—Shoto, Fuyumi, and Natsuo. There are four children in the photos on the wall; it’s a family of six. Though, you don’t ask about the unnamed child, it isn’t your place to do so.

You finish your food fairly quickly, but so do the other two. You look up at Endeavor for the first time tonight, asking, “Can I be excused, sir.”

“No.” He replies, “We have things to discuss.”

“Oh… alright.” You fiddle with the hem of your dress underneath the table, “What do you want to discuss, sir?”

“I’ll take the dirty dishes and excess food.” Rei smiles at you, “You’ll be fine, [Y/N]. Pass me your plate.”

Endeavor waits for Rei to leave to start talking. You are acutely aware of how hot it is now, without Rei’s cooling, calming effect.

“How was your day today?” He starts the conversation off decently well. You look him in the eye, “Good.” You were taught manners growing up; you know how to hold a conversation, no matter how intimidating the person you’re talking to is.

“That is a pretty dress on you, [Y/N].”

“Thank you.”

“Now then. While you are here, there shall be rules you will follow. Rei and I have devised a fair list and she’ll go over them with you extensively in the morning.” He tells you, “Though, the ones concerning you tonight are: no technology post-dinner and that you shall be in bed by ten o’clock. Rei shall wake you up at seven am tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Those aren’t too harsh rules; other homes have had worst lists. Though, you won’t make a final decision on that until tomorrow. You tentatively ask another question, “Uhhh, sir. Rei mentioned other children. If you don’t mind me asking, where are they?”

“Shoto goes to U.A. They have dorms now and are forced to stay there. Fuyumi and Natsuo have since moved out, but visit occasionally. You’ll meet them when it is appropriate.” Endeavor tells you, “And [Y/N], call me Enji. You are now dismissed.”

“Alright, Enji.” As you stand to leave, you use his name, “Thank you.”

#yandere todoroki clan #yandere todoroki family #yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere #mha #bnha #platonic yandere #yandere enji todoroki #yandere rei todoroki #enji todoroki #rei todoroki #canon? what canon?#who was going to tell me that my line breaks dont transfer over to tumblr like they do to ao3

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fairestwriting · 3 years

Note

Hi there and Happy spring! I'm new to your blog, so I hope I'm doing this right- anyway, can I request some fluff/romantic headcanons for Malleus, Silver, Sebek, Vil, and Epel sharing their first kiss with their fem s/o on a picnic please? Thank you!

happy spring to you as well!! i hope you enjoy your stay in this blog ^_^

as a side note, i just noticed i write so much stuff set outside the pomefiore building...and the diasomnia boys have picnics around ramshackle because near their building its just. thorns.

(by the way, i have a ko-fi now, so if anyone feels like supporting my writing you can do it there!)

Malleus Draconia

You’ve known that Malleus liked outdoor dates since you two started going out like this, so you decide to surprise him with a picnic date.

It wasn’t anything too...fancy. You ask him about his favorite snacks and do your best to prepare them, then lay down an old tablecloth near the Ramshackle building, somewhere you two could see the moon well.

It’s the evening when you’re bringing Malleus to the spot you’ve picked, chirping about your surprise for him, and when you get there and tell him about your picnic plans, he’s a bit confused -- You’re nervous, thinking he might not have liked it, but then you realize he just didn’t know exactly what a picnic was.

It’s up for you to guide him through the motions. You explain to him that it’s just eating outdoors, really, usually on the ground like this. He follows you curiously as you instruct him to sit down, and you go on about the things people commonly did during them like storing the food in a basket, and the tablecloths...

“I thought you might like it, since we go for walks here so much.” You explain, nervously fidgeting with your hands a bit. Malleus hadn’t said much yet, just watched.

He’s inexpressive enough you’re afraid he really didn’t like it, so you ask him about it, but then a small smile appears on Malleus’ lips.

“I must say I’m surprised." He admits, with a tenderness in his eyes that you haven't seen before. "I'm sorry for the silence, Child of Man. I was thinking about how to thank you. But I believe I've figured it out now."

You're about to question what he means -- But then Malleus kisses you softly, your thoughts leave your mind as your eyes flutter shut.

When he pulls away, he's still smirking. Maybe he had been planning that, somehow...

Silver

After a couple of dates with Silver, you had noticed you needed to come up with more... low-energy ideas, at least for a while, because his perpetual sleepiness seemed to have gotten especially bad.

You two brainstorm a bit over lunch, when Lilia butts into your conversation and suggests a picnic -- And it's actually a good idea, especially now that the spring weather left the outdoors feeling more pleasant than usual. You two agree on meeting up next afternoon near Ramshackle for it, where maybe it wouldn't be the prettiest date spot, but you'd definitely have some time for yourselves.

Each one of you bring some snacks that you like, you arrange a tablecloth, and soon you were ready for your quaint picnic date -- Silver sits next to you over the cloth, head leaning against your shoulder, and you eat some cookies he bought while chatting idly about school.

When he falls silent in the middle of you telling a story about what one of your classmates did yesterday, you already know what to expect -- And when you turn to look at him, your suspicions are confirmed.

Silver is asleep, leaning against you cutely. You know it's not because he's bored, by now, and you planned this date so it's okay if he dozes off, so you don't mind.

But he looks so cute like this, eyes fluttered shut and expression so peaceful. You set the cookie down on the container, letting your hand pet at his silky hair for a while as you stare. He really was so pretty -- You leave a gentle kiss on his forehead, letting your fingers sort through his whiteish locks, and he stirs, eyes beginning to open.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty." You tease, smiling. Silver, still a bit half asleep, looks at you with half-lidded eyes. You're just about to assure him there's no issue he's dozed off -- Then suddenly his lips are on yours in a chaste, yet slow kiss.

"Retribution for you kissing me before." He explains, voice and smile drowsy as he does so, and returns to cuddle up to you.

Sebek Zigvolt

The picnic date is a product of your and Sebek’s current situation -- You’re his first girlfriend so he doesn’t know a lot of interesting date spots, it’s been exam season lately and you’re both tired, so something easy and simple seems ideal.

Today at lunch, right after your last exam, you tell him you have a surprise for him after all his activities. Sebek gives you a lecture about how he won’t put off any of his duties to see you, but after some coaxing you get him to cut some time from his studying, since exams were already over... and he comes to see you in the evening, at the exact time you had planned.

While he had been busy, you set up the picnic for both of you, and you show off proudly the food you got, put together over the tablecloth as you tell him to sit down -- Some you bought, some you made yourself. It’s mostly simple snacks, but there’s a sparkle in Sebek’s eyes.

You tell him it’ll be like a celebratory dinner for getting through such a difficult period in your school lives, and he’s actually quite excited for it. You sit down together and begin to eat, you listen to him talk about his day, everything is pretty sweet.

Pulling out some nice glasses you’d found stashed away at the Ramshackle attic, you suggest to Sebek that you have a celebratory toast, Sebek likes the idea, and you pour some juice for yourselves in it.

You two toast to your success in your exams cheerfully, he’s smiling quite brightly, happy to know that you’re proud of his efforts too -- As you sip your juice, you notice his face grows pink, you ask him what’s up. There’s a pause.

“...can I kiss you?” He asks, blurting out the question. You blink in surprise, blushing too, but you nod. Sebek blushes a bit more, he tentatively reaches forward... and his lips are on yours, all sweet and gentle. He smiles at you when he pulls away, happy to have had his first kiss with you -- Then you probably spill the forgotten juice on yourselves.

Vil Schoenheit

Isn’t really outdoorsy, so a picnic date isn’t the first romantic outing to come to his mind -- But when you two are taking a stroll on the woods close to Pomefiore and you mention how nice it’d be to have a picnic there, he gets the idea.

Vil liked surprising you like this, putting together all sorts of different dates to impress you, so he takes a couple days to make sure everything’s arranged nicely. He picks a nice spot on a flowering field, fills the basket with your favorite food, and on a Saturday morning, he comes to your dorm to tell you to wear your best sundress, you two are going on a picnic date.

You set up the picnic and eat together like any other meal you’d share, Vil points out the recipe for his favorite food items and fusses over you when you get breadcrumbs on your cheeks. The weather is nice, the sky is a bright blue, everything is so pleasant and you’re here, smile brighter than the sun itself.

He didn’t really bring you here with any second thoughts in mind but when you two are sharing a place of apple slices and you look around at the flowers with this dreamy look in your eyes, your beauty is so blinding to him, and he can’t help but remember he hadn’t kissed you just yet. Well, that just wouldn’t do.

“You’ve got something of mine on you,” He mutters, scooting closer, and during the second that you’re confused, about to ask what it was, Vil holds your chin delicately, tilting your face up as he steals a kiss from you.

Epel Felmier

Epel had been nervous since you two started going on dates, he really liked you and he wanted to do this right! So, lately he's been looking for good date ideas to impress you, and a picnic comes up.

He makes it a surprise! Tells you on Friday, fidgeting with his hands, that he wanted to meet up with you on the garden near the Pomefiore building tomorrow morning. When you get there, after some walking around the flowering bushes, you find Epel standing next to the little picnic setup, awkward but excited smile on his face.

It's a very classic setup -- The straw basket, the red checkered tablecloth. Epel actually has a sort of sappy, cliché romantic side to him. He announces the surprise, opening the basket to show you the food he's arranged for you two, mostly apple based snacks and some bread from the cafeteria. It's all so simple but so earnest you can't help but smile.

You two hang out like usual, chatting the pretty morning away, though it's visible in Epel's sudden cheerfulness that he's trying to impress you, and he feels as though he's succeeding, proud at himself for making his cute girlfriend happy.

"A-Ah, can I feed the cake to you?" He asks when he sees you've picked it up from the basket, and you decide to humor him. His eyes sparkle. You hand him the tupperware and the fork, and he takes a piece off the slice with it. "Say ah!"

You follow his suggestion, letting him feed you the piece of cake. You're a few forkfuls in now, all chuckles and content smiles as you chew your food, when his previously peppy expression falters a bit, and you see his face growing more red -- Well, he had been mostly just hyped about this, and being a good boyfriend, and all, but... he's taken off guard by how cute you can be.

You ask him what's wrong when he's setting the tupperware down, blushing like crazy, and he acts on impulse -- Even in all his clumsiness, Epel cups your face and surprises you with a kiss that lasts a while.

"What was that about?" You'll question, breathless and flustered, and he just mumbles, embarrassed, that you were acting too cute for him to handle, before quickly and excitedly asking to do it again.

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst imagines #twst x reader #malleus draconia #silver twst #sebek zigvolt #vil schoenheit #epel felmier #malleus draconia x reader #silver x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #epel felmier x reader #lis writing

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allzelemonz · 3 years

Text

Mr. Mayor: Vlad Masters X NSG Reader

Decided to make it gender neutral despite the request because I love Vlad and I know other boys and enbys do too. Also made the reader Jack Fenton’s sibling because I think there’s a slap in the face situation part 2 later on.

Visiting your brother’s family was always great. Jack rambled on about something ghost related while Jazz caught you up on her academic successes and Maddie told you about the big new events you’d missed since visiting last. Your favorite part of the visit was taking Danny to hang out. Your nephew was your favorite, not that you’d ever say it out loud.

So taking Danny to the Nasty Burger to meet with his friends was right in your wheelhouse. Sam and Tucker seemed like really nice kids. You admired Sam’s taste in the weird things and Tucker’s understandable love for technology. In talking to the kids you remembered what Maddie had told you.

“So, the new mayor, not your favorite person?” You looked around at the high schooler's faces.

“He tried to make us wear school uniforms, started a curfew at four o’clock, and we almost lost the Nasty Burger.” Danny explained.

“Does he have some sort of vendetta against you or something?” You asked as you went to take a bite of a fry.

The teens looked at you skeptically. As if you knew something you weren’t supposed to.

“What?” You looked around. “Am I missing something?”

“He’s just a bad guy, that’s all.” Sam clarified.

“He’s the guy that’s been chasing after Danny’s mom since they were in college, other than that he never seemed that bad.” You set down the fry you were never going to get the chance to eat. “He and Jack always spent summers between semester doing stupid ghost expermments in th attic.”

“So you knew him before…” Danny stopped himself from finishing.

“Before?”

“Before college?” Tucker filled questioningly.

“Yeah, yeah, you knew him from when my dad went to college?”

“Not really.” You answered. “Just caught glimpses of him. I was in high school so I didn’t really pay attention to what Jack did.” You shrugged. “He seemed nice, but he stopped coming over so often for some reason.”

Once again the teens looked at each other as if they knew something special.

“All right, who wants to tell me?” You broke their little staring contest.

“Tell you what?” Tucker spoke in more of a series of squeaks rather than words.

“Yeah, there’s nothing to tell.” Sam covered.

You turned to Danny. “Nephew.”

He gulped and let out a nervous laugh. “It’s like Sam said, he’s just a really bad guy now.”

“Explain.”

The look of a disappointed (Aunt/Uncle/Auncle-This is the most common gender neutral term I’ve found) was something that could move mountains. Danny shifted in his seat clearly trying to come up with a convincing lie.

“Daniel, tell me.” You narrowed your brows and the kid looked white as a ghost.

Hold on, no. His hand was gone. The one that was resting on the table. Gone.

“Is this a ghost thing?” You asked.

Danny looked down at his hand and tried to play it off as if it was just a weird angle. It didn’t work. With all the nervous muttering and poorly formed excuses it was obvious they were lying.

“You’re half ghost?” It was hard to believe, but it was the only thing that the kids didn’t sound like they were lying about.

“Yes, just keep your voice down.” Danny warned. “Vlad is half ghost too, that’s how he became mayor and got all of his money.”

“So he’s bad because he played to his strengths?” You muttered to yourself.

You gathered up the trash around the table.

“Why don’t you introduce me to him, Danny. I’m sure he’s not that bad of a guy.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Sam chimed in.

“I may be related to Jack Fenton, but that doesn’t mean I’m an idiot.” You looked at Danny who seemed to forget that he could do ghostly things and was trying to hide in his shirt. “Come on, Danny.”

Reluctantly Danny left his friends to introduce you to his arch nemesis. A fourteen year old with an arch nemesis and it had to be your nephew. Town hall was busy, but that’s what town halls are like. Danny helped you walk through a few walls until you were outside of Vlad’s office. The fact that your nephew could just walk through walls was going to take some getting used to. Danny opened the door to see a rather handsome man sitting at a large desk with a fluffy white cat in his lap. He looked up at the sound of the door clicking open.

“Why Daniel, to what do I owe the pleasure?” His voice had a calming effect.

“My (Aunt/Uncle/Auncle) wanted to meet you.” Danny seemed tense in the way he spoke. “I’ll be at home.’ He muttered to you before leaving the room.

You closed the door as he left.

“Good to meet you Mr. Masters, I’m (Y/n), Jack’s (Brother/Sister/Sibling).”

“Oh, yes, I remember seeing you around.” Vlad recalled. “Please sit.”

You did so, taking the seat across from him.

“I wanted to meet you because I’d always been a fan of your work.”

“Oh, thank you, it's always nice to meet a fan.”

“And because I never got the chance to really meet you when you and Jack were friends.”

“I must say, I do regret not meeting you sooner.” Vlad leaned forward and rested his chin in his hands. The cat scurried away to a small tower by the window.

“Why did you and Jack stop talking?” You asked.

“Oh, college passed and we went separate ways.” He waved off the issues.

“That’s it?”

“Well, I used to have a bit of jealousy toward he and Maddie, but I feel it passing more and more with each word.”

“Each what?”

“Each day.” Vlad corrected himself.

“Right…” Your eyes wandered to the framed Packers jersey on his wall. “You’re a Packers fan?”

“Why yes.” Vlad smiled fondly at the jersey. “I’ve tried to buy the team itself, but no luck.”

“I’ve always been a bit of a fan, and I love the jersey.” You complemented.

“Say, would you like to accompany me to a game this season?”

You blushed red. A very attractive man just asked you to go to your favorite team's game.

“I, uh, I’d love to.”

“I have my own box, bottle service and all of the perks.” He bragged. “Afterall someone with your looks deserves nothing less.”

You let out a nervous half laugh. “Thank you, Mr. Masters.”

“Oh, please, Vlad.” He insisted.

“Right, Vlad.”

The name rolled off your tongue in such a pleasant way. Jack might kill you for this, but come on.

“If you’d like we go for dinner tonight as well.” Vlad offered.

“Sure.” You answered right away.

After having to interrogate Danny and his friends you realized you never really got to eat.

“Shall we then?” Vlad waited by you with his arm out to take.

You walked with him to a limo reserved just for the mayor. He sat next to you and gave great conversation. You discussed the Packers, politics of Amity Park, and personal preferences. Dinner was much of the same, but with more food. Vlad wasn’t like Danny had said. He was a gentleman. He may have acquired his money by not-so-legal means, but he was a nice guy.

The ride home was more conversation. Vlad bought the ticket to the game he’d promised and inquired about why you were in Amity Park.

“It was just time to visit, catch up with Jazz and Danny.” You explained. “I try to tune out Jack, he calls every week or so anyway.”

“And how long will you be staying in our fair city?”

“Around a week.”

“And I couldn’t persuade you to stay any longer?” Vlad offered.

“I, uh, I don’t know.” You thought. “Maybe.”

“There is a position open at city hall if it interests you.” He met your eyes. “I’d be happy to pull some string to keep you around.”

“I wouldn’t mind that.” You nodded along.

You hadn’t noticed how close the two of you were. Until Vlad’s hand was already cupping your cheek. He gave you a moment to react before he leaned in and pressed your lips together. It was a sweet kiss, timid. As if he hadn’t done it in a long time.

You scooted closer to him on the seat and wrapped your arms around him, one of your hands finding his pony tail to play with. Vlad rested his other hand on your side and pulled you a bit closer. You pressed further and intensified the kiss. Vlad obliged and kept the pace, kissing you with as much passion.

The car came to a stop and made you both separate. Time was cut short.

“I suppose I’ll see you soon?”

“Of course.”

“Lunch tomorrow?”

“I’d love to.”

Vlad opened the door for you to step out and gave you one last smile before the car drove away. You were definitely going to see him again.

#Danny Phantom #vlad plasmius #Vlad Masters #vlad masters x reader #vlad masters x male reader #vlad masters x female reader #x reader #x male reader #x gender neutral reader #vlad masters x gender neutral reader

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ironwoman359 · 3 years

Text

You Don’t Own Me (You Don’t Even Know Me)

Chapter 4

Navigation: Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch.6

Summary: As the son of a Baron, Roman Sanders always knew that when he married, it would be due to a political arrangement rather than true love. Still, when he is sent away to marry an older, more powerful Earl, he is determined to make the best of his situation. Despite the Earl’s indifference towards him, Roman forges ahead and prepares to become the best husband he can possibly be, making new friends along the way. But when his fiancé’s demeanor turns from cold to cruel, Roman must shift all of his focus to survival, and find a way out of his marriage before it’s too late.

Ships: Logince, side Moxiety and Dukeceit

Content Warnings (overall): arranged marriage, abuse, attempted sexual assault, murder, poisoning, character death, hurt/comfort, angst Chapter 4 Warnings: possessive behavior, verbal and physical abuse, angst, allusions to abuse and murder

Word Count: 4067

Read on AO3: here!

A/N: Co-written with @5-falsehoods-phonated, check out his masterlist here and check out mine here!

---

“And when I tried to get down, Remus spooked the pony and it bolted, with me still clinging to the saddle for dear life.”

Virgil snorted, then immediately brought his hand up to cover his smile.

“You wound me!” Roman said dramatically, placing a hand on his chest. “Eight-year-old me was certain that his life was going to end, and you’re laughing?”

“I can’t help that the mental image of you dangling off the saddle of a pony and screaming your head off is the funniest thing I’ve seen all week,” Virgil replied.

“Be nice, Virgil!” Patton scolded, even as he fought back giggles of his own. “I’m sure it was very scary at the time!”

“You’re telling me,” Roman agreed. “I wouldn’t set foot near the stables for a month.”

“I can’t believe that after all that you somehow grew up to be a competent rider,” Virgil said.

“Well, I probably wouldn’t have if it weren’t for my older brother Remy. He started taking me with him when he went out on his rides; I felt a lot safer riding double with him than I did by myself.”

“Your brothers sound wonderful,” Patton said, smiling.

“Oh, they’re the absolute worst,” Roman said. “But also I love them more than anyone.”

“I hope we’ll get to meet them at the wedding!”

Roman’s smile went brittle around the edges, and he forced himself to nod.

“I hope so too,” he said quietly.

Patton’s brow wrinkled, and Roman knew that look, that was Patton’s “I’m worried about you” look, and as much as he had come to view Patton and Virgil as his friends, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to get into the whole “my twin brother ran away from home to escape noble life and I haven’t seen him in years and might never see him again” topic with them just yet.

“Well this has been great,” Virgil cut in suddenly. “But it’s getting close to midday; I need to get back to work, and you need to get to your little lunch date.”

“Excuse you, it is a perfectly professional business meeting!” Roman protested, and Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Sure it is. That’s why you meet with Logan every single day and always perk up or get this silly smile on your face whenever you mention something that he said, most of which has nothing to do with business.”

Roman gave Virgil a deadpan look. “Do you really want me to retaliate right now?” he asked, glancing pointedly at Patton.

Virgil’s cheeks flushed pink, and he waved Roman away.

“Go on, then!” he said. “Go have your perfectly professional business meeting.”

“I will!” Roman said primly, but as he stood to leave, he shot Virgil a grateful smile, and Virgil nodded in return.

After parting with Patton at the house’s entrance, Roman made the short trek down to the library alone. He hadn’t been sure how he would manage living at the Howard Estate at first, but his life had settled into a predictable yet comfortable routine since the engagement banquet.

Patton brought breakfast to his room every morning, and after Roman insisted several times that he preferred the company, Patton now stayed to eat with him most mornings. After breakfast, Roman changed into his riding clothes and the two headed down to the stables together, where Virgil was waiting for them with Angel. Roman took his morning ride, and Patton and Virgil did whatever it was they liked to do when they were alone together.

When he returned, Roman helped Virgil groom Angel, and the three of them often fell into easy conversation with one another. At midday, Roman took his lunch in the library with Logan, and he spent the afternoons on his own, exploring the mansion or indulging in his creative hobbies. All in all, his days were mostly pleasant, until dinnertime, of course.

His nightly dinner with Lord Howard was, to his disappointment, the most boring and uncomfortable part of Roman’s day. It became clear to Roman after a few attempts of engaging with his fiance that Lord Howard wasn’t even slightly interested in talking with him; what he wanted was somebody to talk at. Roman sat, night after night, and listened to the earl rant about frustrating business partners, idiotic city officials, and even tiny annoyances like a scuff on his boot or a fly in his office. It was difficult to not feel like an emotional punching bag, and Roman always left dinner exhausted from playing the polite, doting fiance that Lord Howard expected him to be.

Roman stepped into the library, and smiled when he saw Logan sitting at a table beneath a window, the afternoon sun casting golden beams of light through his long hair.

At least there were more positives than negatives to living at this estate.

“Ah, Roman,” Logan said, smiling as he approached. “Excellent timing, I was just beginning to review my weekly report for Lord Howard. Would you care to assist me?”

“Always,” Roman said, sitting down across from him.

They poured over the receipts and summaries and work orders together, and Roman couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer amount of work that Logan did every single day.

“Honestly, Logan, you do almost too much for the earl. Especially considering what he pays you.”

Roman had seen the payroll receipts for all the staff, and he couldn’t help but be a little insulted on the servants’ behalf. One of the ways Lord Howard kept costs down was clearly at the expense of his staff.

“While I may agree with your sentiment, the fact of the matter is that if I did not do all this, the estate would fall apart,” Logan said. “And regardless of any...personal feelings about his lordship, there are far too many people who depend on him and his estate for me to consider stopping.”

Logan paused, frowning as he scanned a document, then sighed.

“For instance, his lordship neglected to sign off on a shipment of new armor to the city guard, despite my reminding him to do so three times in the last week.”

He scrawled something along the bottom of the document and set it aside, and Roman raised an eyebrow.

“Was that Lord Howard’s name you just wrote?”

Logan fiddled with his glasses, and he glanced around the room before answering. “This is...not the first time that his lordship has neglected his duties on what he perceives to be minor issues. I, uh...take the liberty of correcting such oversights for him.”

“You can forge his handwriting?” Roman translated, and Logan nodded sheepishly. “That’s amazing!”

Logan blinked, looking up at Roman in clear surprise. “I...it is?”

“Are you kidding me?” Roman exclaimed. “Of course it is...you’re so talented, Logan, really. I’m not exaggerating when I say you’re wasted as a secretary.”

“Oh...well, thank you, Roman,” Logan said, his cheeks flushing slightly pink. “I must admit, you also have far more potential than his lordship would care to acknowledge.”

“I’ll get him to see sense soon,” Roman insisted. “Then maybe together, we can make some real changes around here!”

“I wish I shared your optimism,” Logan said with a sigh. “But I am glad to share your company, at least.”

It was Roman’s turn to blush, but before he could think of a reply, the sound of footsteps caught his attention, and he looked up to see Patton approaching their table.

“Sorry for interrupting, Kiddos, but I’ve been asked to fetch Roman here and get him ready.”

“Get me ready?” Roman asked, and Patton nodded.

“His lordship requests your presence at a business meeting he has in an hour with other estate holders. I’ve been instructed to dress you for the event and bring you to his lordship.”

Roman forced down the twinge of discomfort in the back of his mind at the earl choosing an outfit for him like he was some sort of doll, and grinned as he got to his feet.

“You see, Logan?” he said. “This is our chance!”

“If it is a meeting with other nobility, then I’m afraid I won’t be present,” Logan said. “Lord Howard does not wish for...commoners to be present at such negotiations. He instructs me on what measures need to be taken afterwards.”

“That’ll be the first thing we change then, once I make him see reason,” Roman said. “You’ll see, this is going to be the start of something great!”

“I hope you are right,” Logan said with a small smile. “Good luck, Roman.”

“Thank you, Logan,” Roman said as he followed Patton out of the library.

I’ll certainly need it.

--- --- ---

Roman fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair, shooting a glance over to the earl to make sure he hadn’t noticed. The silky fabric that his pants were made of stuck uncomfortably to his skin and made his legs itch horribly, but he had been in similar attire before and had had plenty of practice in the art of keeping his poise while screaming internally. Thankfully, even though he was seated right next to Lord Howard, he had yet to draw his attention. Howard had been too occupied bragging about his various business exports for most of the meeting to pay much attention to him.

Even through his discomfort, Roman had been learning a lot about his fiance, dutifully keeping mental notes on everything he heard, from which parts of land he had inherited to which ones he had bought or negotiated into owning. Overseas businesses and local investments both let his power reach farther than one might first suspect, and all that put together was what kept the Howard Estate with its acres of land, sprawling mansion and extensive grounds and highly specialized staff all running smoothly.

It was a lot to manage, so it made sense that Lord Howard had Logan figure out most of the work and only signed off on the most important things himself. Having someone as competent as Logan run things in the background so the true estate head could make the actual appearances as the business leader was a strategy many nobles used to keep their properties under control.

Craning his neck to look up at his fiance from his lower seat, Roman furrowed his brow in thought. He wondered just how much Logan did that the earl never saw anything about until he reaped the benefits of it. Sure, Logan was extremely capable, but relying entirely on one person to manage everything seemed a bit foolhardy to Roman.

Tuning back into the conversation, Roman perked up as another lord gestured stiffly at a stack of documents in front of him, smooth calculation clear in his tone of voice. Negotiations were something Roman had always prided himself in handling, and handling well. He had often spoken circles around his own father in their practice debates, and it was rare that Roman participated in a discussion without gaining something in his own favor.

As neither party at the moment looked particularly stressed, Roman figured with a slight twinge of disappointment that such measures shouldn’t be needed this time. He would have liked to show off just a bit and make Lord Howard see what a useful asset he could actually be in their marriage, but he supposed that could wait until a more appropriate opportunity.

“I have most of the influence in this field anyway. Signing your bit of land over to me now would cause fewer problems for you in the future; especially if I don’t have to take it by force when I’m looking to expand.” Punctuating his statement with a firm tap to the papers, the opposing lord sat back with a satisfied smirk.

The icy glare Lord Howard fixed him with was enough to wipe the smirk fully off his face, however, and he tilted back slightly as the earl leaned forward to fold his hands smoothly in front of him.

“I’m not in the habit of signing away what’s rightfully mine, Lord Rilken, Baron of Vilvik.”

Roman flinched slightly at the way he practically spat the other man’s title…a title he shared, and had never once felt insecure about until this very moment. The way he spoke to these men, these people in positions of power, like they were nothing but dirt to be brushed off his own much more impressive riches- it was enough to make Roman want to run all the way back to his own estate and beg for another way, plead to wait for someone else to ask for his hand or to find someone himself. He stiffened in his seat and shook the irrational thoughts away.

No, this is how one played the game when negotiating important matters. Put up a cold and intimidating front until the other person backed down or bent to your own suggestions. If anything, Lord Howard's act was admirable; it almost immediately shut down any arguments, even if it hardly held any semblance of tact. Realizing this would be a good opportunity to show his skills, Roman leaned forward and placed his own hands on the table in front of him, gaining the attention of the opposing business owners quickly.

“It might prove advantageous to you both to simply form a partnership and share the land and business potential it holds. With as much power as the both of you hold over this branch, you’d be able to expand much faster and reap more benefits than you would if you spent all of your time attempting to take control over the others’ sections.” Pleased with himself, Roman glanced over to Lord Howard, expecting at least to have impressed him since he hadn’t really had the time to explain all that he had been trained in and what he could bring to the estate with their union.

However, as he met Lord Howard’s eyes, ice ran through his veins. The earl was glaring, staring him down like a particularly resilient bug that he could hardly wait to smash beneath a steel-toed boot. The room went so quiet that Roman could swear that the other nobles were holding their breath, and glancing around in his peripherals, he saw everyone sitting around the table gawking at him as if he’d just committed high treason. Had he really said something so wrong? Was this not what was customary, nay, expected behavior of the soon to be co-owner of the estate? Shrinking down slightly as his ears burned red, he finally lowered his eyes as the earl turned away. Roman heard him take a deep breath before saying in a deliberately controlled voice:

“You must forgive my fiance, he hails from a country estate you see; he isn’t accustomed to the way things work here yet. If you would be so kind as to excuse us for just a moment so that I may explain a few things?” Not waiting for an answer, the earl stood and held out his hand for Roman to take. “If you would step into the hall with me, dearest?”

Recognizing the order under the request, Roman stood quickly and took Lord Howard’s hand, wincing at how tightly he was gripped and practically dragged out of the room. The door was opened just a bit too forcefully to calm his nerves in the slightest and he watched as Lord Howard seemed to barely refrain from slamming it back closed, instead closing it with deliberate calm before whirling around to face him and jerking his hand out of Roman’s to tower before him.

“Let me make this perfectly clear, you do not speak out of turn in these meetings. You do not speak above me or-”

“But I didn’t! I was only-” Roman didn’t register what the dull smacking sound echoing in his ears and making them ring was until pain bloomed and spread from his lower jaw to his entire cheek. Raising his hand to his face in disbelief, he felt a bit of wetness and looked to see blood on his fingertips. Fear and horror twisted in his gut as he realized one of Lord Howard’s rings must have caught on his cheek and opened a cut. His jaw ached and his teeth felt numb; the blow had been hard enough to rattle them in his skull. Romans looked up and flinched as he saw Howard’s hand still raised to strike should he choose to speak again, and he shrunk in on himself in an attempt to seem too small to expend more energy on.

“You,” The earl spat, “do not speak above me, or make suggestions on my behalf. You are not here to offer up useless opinions that were not asked for or needed. You were brought into that room to sit obediently and look pretty on my arm and that is the full extent that your role will ever be. Have I made myself clear?”

Roman hesitated for just a second too long, and Lord Howard reached down to grip his chin, tipping his head so he had no choice but to look his assailant directly in the eyes. “My dear, I believe I asked you a question, and I expect an answer.”

Biting back a whimper Roman nodded as much as he could with his face trapped in the steely grip. “Yes my lord, I understand perfectly. I apologize for overstepping, it won’t happen again.”

The answer, as demeaning as it had felt to say, seemed to appease the still seething man, and Howard dropped his chin and stepped back with a wolfish smile.

“Very good, see to it that it doesn’t. Now, I believe we’ve been here long enough. If you’re done blubbering, you may join me.”

Startling a bit at the choice of phrasing, Roman hesitantly reached up to touch his face, wincing as he realized there was more than just blood on his cheeks. Taking a deep breath, he carefully wiped the tears away before plastering on a small smile and moving to stand just behind the earl. He was loath to go back into the room like this, humiliation and blood reddening his cheeks, but he didn’t dare speak up for fear of more punishment. As Lord Howard opened the door and moved back to his place at the head of the table, he hardly spared Roman another glance, and Roman had no choice but to meekly follow.

Sitting down, Roman realized most of the people at the table were staring at him like one would a fresh kill, their expressions a mixture of pity and approval while they averted their eyes. Sinking down even lower as the meeting resumed, he realized this was to be the second part of his punishment. He was to learn and remember his role as Lord Howard’s betrothed and eventual husband. Sit still and look pretty, step a toe out of line and be punished, and make sure everyone in the room knew that the power held over him was just as absolute as the power the earl held over everything else.

“I’m pleased to know some people still know how to keep common folk in line. Truly, the disrespect-” Roman’s ears rang as someone close by whispered to another just loud enough for him to overhear, making him want to sink down even lower and let the floor swallow him.

The meeting continued on for what seemed like forever, but unlike before, Roman didn’t absorb a single word of what was said. The voices of the other lords washed over him as he sat as still as he could, hands clenched in his lap to keep them from trembling. When at last Lord Howard stood, Roman almost stood up next to him, but caught himself just in time and sent a questioning glance up at his fiance.

Lord Howard’s lips curled into a smile, and he held his arm out to Roman in invitation. Roman swallowed down his revulsion and stood, slipping his arm into the earl’s and schooling his face into a pretty smile. Lord Howard covered Roman’s hand with his own, and Roman’s skin burned at the touch.

“Well gentlemen, this concludes our discussion for the day, I do thank you all for coming.”

One by one the nobles stood, nodding to Lord Howard as they filed out of the room. Roman’s cheeks heated as several of them swept their eyes over him as they passed, their gazes lingering on the bruise blooming on his face. When at last, every one of them was gone, Lord Howard turned his attention to Roman, all false pleasantries gone from his expression.

“I trust that after today, any...confusion about your role here has been cleared up?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“Yes, my lord,” Roman whispered, and the earl smiled.

“Good. Now go clean yourself up. Dinner is at seven o’clock sharp, and I expect you to look presentable.”

“Yes, my lord,” Roman repeated, and as soon as Lord Howard dropped his arm, he practically bolted from the room.

He hurried through the corridors of the mansion, head down and eyes stinging. When he finally reached his room, he all but slammed the door behind him, and collapsed to the floor, his shoulders shaking as he released the sob he’d been holding back for the past hour.

He let himself cry, for how long, he wasn’t sure, not only for the sting on his cheek and the shame that came with it, but for every doubt, every grief, every pain that he’d pushed down and bottled up over the past month.

After everything he’d been through, everything he’d sacrificed, was this really his fate? Chained forever to a man who only saw him as something to own, to display, to use...

Roman lifted his head slowly.

“Remember all that we've taught you, and you'll do fine."

His father had taught him everything he knew about business, about politics, about matters of the state. He knew how to act with decorum, how to spot an opportunity, and how to charm a room while negotiating, all thanks to his father’s teachings.

But now, with tears running down his face and a bruise blossoming on his cheek, he remembered another set of lessons.

Lessons his mother had given him as a teenager, after time had run its course and he was no longer the slightly awkward, gangly kid he had once been.

“You’ve grown into a handsome young man,” his mother had said to him on his eighteenth birthday. “Your father believes that when you are married, it will be purely for political reasons. You need to know that this may not be the case.”

Roman had tried to forget the lessons his mother had passed down to him, had told himself that he would never need them...but here he was, sobbing on the floor, the first of what he knew would be many marks on his skin if he didn’t tread carefully.

Roman learned everything he knew about running an estate from his father, but he learned everything about acting from his mother. Thanks to her, he knew how to conceal his emotions, how to smile when his stomach rolled over and how to sigh when his skin burned. He knew how to mold himself into the perfect husband, because if he did not let himself be molded he would find himself broken before it was too late.

“Too late for what, mother?” the younger him had asked, eyes wide and horrified, and she’d smiled in a way he’d never seen before.

“Did I ever tell you the story of how your grandfather died?”

Roman knew what situations were most likely to result in “accidents,” what weapons were easily concealed and what poisons were difficult to detect. He knew how to pluck a nose hair to bring tears to his eyes and slap his cheeks so they appeared flushed. He knew how to appear calm and collected when he was suffering, and how to appear stricken with grief when all he felt was relief.

He had been preparing for marriage his whole life...every kind of marriage. And now that he knew the kind of husband that Lord Howard really wanted, he knew exactly what kind of husband he was going to be.

Even if he wouldn’t be one for very long.

--- --- ---

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#sanders sides #ts fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logince #moxiety #you don't own me #my writing #abuse tw

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supermantv · 3 years

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daxton + first date after getting back together

Their first date after getting back together is technically at the Winter Dance, and while it had been overall pleasant, there were still the minor bumps (the major glaring one being that Paxton had nearly ran his girlfriend over with his car) that prevented the date from retaining a sense of utter bliss that Paxton was still seeking. He adores her, loves being around her, thinks she is the most exciting person that he has ever met, but there is no denying that Devi is an absolute hurricane. He loves that too, and he’s starting to understand that moments of complete peace will be hard-earned, but entirely worth it. He’s also hoping that these moments of peace become more and more common, with a smoother path paved to achieve them each time.

They’re in his garage when he decides to broach the subject, a random slasher film playing on the screen that neither of the two are really invested in. Devi lays between his legs, her own feet dangling over the edge of the couch as she rests her head on the hard planes of his stomach. She traces unrefined patterns into the exposed skin above the waistband of his jeans where his shirt has ridden up, and Paxton knows that if she keeps this up, there’s a very high possibility he will actually be driven insane, so to prevent this, he shifts into a sitting position, forcing Devi to move with him.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, and it’s hard not to get distracted when his eyes follow the movement of her hands, shifting to smooth out her skirt, because it’s yellow and pink, and cute, and short, and it very much suits her.

“Um.” Paxton clears his throat and flicks his eyes away and Devi must see something in his actions to tip her off to the situation because she actually laughs. Loud and unapologetic and Paxton feels the tip of his ears beginning to burn but he’s smiling. “Shut up,” he grumbles without a trace of any real aggravation, lobbing a pillow at her head. She catches it easily and hugs it to her chest.

“Okay, okay,” Devi says and she quiets down but her eyes are twinkling. “What’s up?”

“I was just gonna ask what you wanted to do for our first date on Saturday.”

“First date?” Devi asks bemusedly.

“Yeah, y’know, first date since getting back together,” Paxton clarifies, but Devi still looks confused.

“Wasn’t that at the dance?”

“Yeah, about that,” he starts, drawing back his shoulders and filling his voice with enough mock authority that Devi guffaws under her breath. “I’d like to put in a formal request right now for a do over.”

“Why?” Devi asks, taking this chance to throw the pillow back at him. It bounces harmlessly off his face where it slides into his lap, and he cries out from the shock of the hit rather than the pain. Devi ignores him. “I had a good time. Did you not have a good time?”

“I had a great time,” Paxton reassures her and his heart just about melts when she beams at him. “But I very nearly ran you over with my car at the beginning of the night.”

“After that!”

“After that you threatened to kill the DJ.”

“He deserved it,” Devi grumbles and the same murderous scowl she’d worn that night resurfaces. “But those were minor issues anyway.”

“I’m not sure vehicular manslaughter or attempted homicide are minor issues,” he jokes and his girlfriend rolls her eyes before he becomes serious again. “Really though. I just want to go on one perfect first date with you. No Trent or Marcus, and no narrowly avoided death.”

Devi wrinkles her nose. “Perfect is a tall order.”

“Third time’s the charm,” he says, but Devi’s doubtful expression doesn’t waver, so he relents. “Okay then, not a perfect first date. A first date where everything goes according to plan.”

“That’s more realistic,” Devi says, but she sounds and looks unconvinced by his words. “But still.”

“Don't worry,” Paxton says, leaning forward to rub his thumb tenderly across her cheek. She relaxes into his touch and he grins. “I'll prove you wrong.”

“I sure hope so,” Devi sighs, and no more is said on the subject for the night because then she's grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and yanking him into her.

But of course, Devi was right to be skeptical, because as Paxton is starting to learn, it is impossible for things to go according to plan when they're involved.

He’d called that very same night to make reservations at a semi-fancy Italian restaurant across town, and was promptly told they didn't do reservations, which as Paxton figured was even better, because if a restaurant didn't do reservations, that had to mean there was always available seating, right? He asks his mom to teach him how to iron on Thursday, and by the time Saturday night rolls around, he feels relaxed and ready, so assured that nothing could possibly go wrong. He lays the bouquet of flowers he'd bought for Devi gingerly in the passenger seat and whistles to himself as he starts the car.

Except his car won't start. Why won't his car start?

And from then on, things only spiral out of control further. Paxton texts Devi asking if she can just walk to his house and he'll order an Uber to take them to the restaurant from there. Except when he checks his bank account, he cringes at the lack of money, failing to realize earlier how long it'd been since his last paycheck from his summer job. He wouldn't have even been able to pay the bill for their food, much less order a $15 Uber now. And really, he's not above begging his parents or sister for money, but his parents aren't home, gone on a weekend camping trip in the wilderness where they most likely don't get cell service. And Becca is working on a new assignment for school, her door locked with very clear instructions for Paxton not to interrupt her. He doesn't want to risk becoming a murder victim before his third first date with his girlfriend.

So, when Devi arrives at his house and the front door swings open to reveal her visibly frazzled boyfriend explaining to her that he's going to be cooking for her tonight instead of going out, she smiles sweetly and nods her head in understanding. Paxton wonders briefly if she had seen it in his face, how close he is to snapping, because he’d been expecting maybe a little push back, a slight protest. He knows his girlfriend isn't renowned for her accommodating nature, but he thinks she's trying to be in this moment, for his sake, and he's grateful and questioning how he could have gotten so lucky. It makes him want to cradle her in his arms and kiss her senseless, but he can't because he needs to figure out what he's going to feed her.

Paxton leads Devi to the living room and leaves her with a peck on her forehead and the TV remote before rushing back to the kitchen. And this is where the next problem presents itself, because Paxton doesn't know how to cook.

At best, he can scramble an egg and microwave a hot pocket. Both of which he thinks Devi would not appreciate. So, Paxton grabs two packages of ramen from the cabinet and drops the noodles into a pot of boiling water. He thinks he can spruce it up with an onion, trying to recall all the tips and tricks he'd seen on the Food Network, but as he's cutting it his eyes begin to sting and he can't see all that well because he's blinking back tears and he's starting to feel like a contestant on Chopped when he slices his finger with the knife. He winces at the initial pain, but the cut is shallow, and it would be fine but now his blood is all over the cutting board and the onion and there goes that idea.

Paxton is praying that it can't get any worst from here, because if one more thing goes wrong he's not sure he'll be able to keep it together.

He turns off the stove and removes the pot from the heat, pouring the noodles carefully into two separate bowls. It's certainly not Michelin star worthy, but Paxton promised Devi dinner and it's better than nothing.

But it's as if he’d been a war criminal or a serial killer in his last life, and the universe is determined to punish him, because Devi is sitting at the dining room table waiting for him, and all Paxton has to do is take three moderately sized steps to make it to the make it to her. But his foot gets caught on the corner of a rug and he staggers forward, the noodles and bowls flying out of his hands and straight onto Devi. The broth stains and drenches her dress and the noodles coat her from her hair down to her shoes, but she's still sitting, as if she hadn't processed what had just happened.

“Shit,” Paxton swears, crouching next to her and flicking noodles off her thighs. “Are you okay? Any burns?”

“I'm fine,” she says, glancing down at him, and her eyes are a little wide and her chin wobbles slightly, and he feels his heart drop into his chest because she's about to cry-.

The sound of her laugh startles him and his head snaps up, thinking she might've cracked before he had.

“What?” he asks, concerned.

“I tried to tell you,” she says, but she doesn't look upset. Noodles cling to her cheeks but her smile stretches the entire length of her face. She doesn't even sound like she's gloating, even though she had been right, and as a result of his unwillingness to listen she was now wearing their dinner.

Paxton’s fingers curl around the hem of her dress, causing broth to seep down his fist. “I wanted to make this perfect for you.”

“And it was,” Devi insists, hands coming up to cup his face.

“Devi,” he grimaces. “You don't have to lie.”

“I'm not!” she objects. “It was perfectly us. And I like that.”

Paxton lifts a brow. “You like being covered in soggy ramen noodles.”

“You're deliberately missing the point,” Devi rolls her eyes and pinches his cheek. “I like being with you, even if the day is a complete disaster, I'll be happy because I was spending time with you. And, I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm a bit of a disaster magnet.”

“I think it's cute,” Paxton murmurs demurely.

“See,” Devi says. “You know what I'm talking about, and you agree.”

“The noodles don't help though.”

Devi makes a face. “No they do not.”

And while Devi is taking a shower in his bathroom and Paxton is laying in bed, thrumming his fingers against his stomach, he thinks about what she had said about this date being perfectly them. He smiles to himself.

#daxton #nhie #brrrr.. see.. he cooked her dinner! :)#paxton is a chef!!#world renowned!!!#h.l. writes

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emospritelet · 3 years

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Heatstroke - chapter 24/24

Last time, Gold confronted Zelena over trying to frame Regina, and Lacey caught the whole show on tape. This is the final chapter! Happy endings FTW!

[AO3]

Lacey set down the camera on the shop counter, and raised an eyebrow at Gold.

“So,” she said. “What do you want to do?”

He inclined his head, lifting a hand and letting it fall.

“It appears you have a story to tell about Miss West,” he remarked. “I feel the choice is very much yours. Perhaps Mr Glass can be persuaded that running an exposé is in the public interest.”

Lacey hesitated.

“Yeah, I think he would,” she acknowledged. “It’s just - Mayor Mills doesn’t know, does she? About Zelena.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I think maybe we should tell her,” said Lacey. “Before it all comes out, I mean. That would be the decent thing to do, wouldn’t it?”

“It would,” he agreed, and let out a heavy sigh, his head rolling back. “Well, that’s unfortunate.”

“What is?”

He raised his head again, sending her a stern look.

“It appears I’ve discovered a conscience,” he said. “The rumour was I didn’t have one. I blame you for this outrage.”

Lacey giggled, and leaned in to kiss him.

“Does that mean you’ll come with me to break the news?” she asked, and he offered his arm.

“To the Mayor’s office,” he said. “I’m sure Regina will be just delighted to see us.”

“This can’t be true.” Regina was staring at Lacey’s phone, having watched the recording twice. “This - this is impossible!”

“This must be a hell of a shock,” said Lacey, and Regina shook her head.

“I always thought she disliked me, but Mal told me I was being paranoid,” she said. “All this time she was plotting to ruin my life because my mother abandoned her? The nerve of the woman!”

“I guess sibling rivalry’s tough to deal with,” said Lacey. “Makes me glad I’m an only child.”

“Well, she certainly has my mother’s ambition and vindictiveness,” said Regina, with a sigh. “I don’t suppose you know anything about the father?”

“I’m afraid not,” said Gold. “Did your mother ever hint that you had a half-sister?”

Regina shook her head.

“She never spoke about her youth,” she said. “Other than to tell me she had to fight for anything she could get and I should do the same.”

She handed the phone back to Lacey and frowned at Gold.

“Exactly how long have you known about this?” she demanded, and he smiled.

“I heard what you did,” he said.

“That wasn’t what I asked,” she said coldly. “I know you, Gold. Were you holding onto this information until it was of use to you?”

“You think I’m working against you?” he asked, in a mild tone.

“I think you never do anything that doesn’t benefit you.”

“Well, perhaps you don’t know me as well as you think,” he said. “Or perhaps we assess risks and benefits differently. Either way, you have Miss French to thank for the investigation of her past and this recording. I merely - encouraged a confession.”

“Quite the sleuthing team,” said Regina, in a dry tone. “Can we expect a new office in town? French Gold, Private Investigators?”

“I don’t mind investigating his privates,” said Lacey, and Gold shot her a very level look as Regina curled her lip.

“Thanks, I’m going to spend the rest of the evening trying and failing to get that image out of my head.”

“You’re welcome,” said Lacey cheerfully.

“The question for you,” said Gold, “is how are you going to handle this? Miss French has quite a scoop on her hands, but she wanted to bring it to you first before raising it with Mr Glass.”

Regina shot Lacey a grateful look before sitting back in her chair with a sigh.

“There’s supposed to be a debate,” she said. “The two of us up on stage. You think it’s her intention to reveal the whole sordid story in front of the whole town?”

“I don’t believe she wants the rest of the town to know,” said Gold. “If they did, then her whole campaign reeks of sour grapes. She’ll want to play on the image she’s created while she’s been here. However inaccurate it is.”

Regina growled under her breath.

“I can’t believe I’m having to go through this charade!” she snapped. “I’m supposed to stand there and - and debate her when she’s trying to frame me for corruption and destroy my life!”

“We don’t have any actual evidence that she’s tried to frame you,” said Lacey, and Regina nodded impatiently.

“I know, I know. Nothing court worthy on that tape, however much she hinted at it,” she said. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to hand it over to the Sheriff, get him to look into it.”

“If you agree to an exclusive interview with me after the debate, sure,” said Lacey quickly, and almost blushed as Gold shot her an approving look. Regina drummed her fingers on the desk.

“She’s far too good for you, Gold,” she said abruptly. “I hope you know that.”

He smirked at that, winking at Lacey.

“Oh, I’m well aware.”

Gold was finding it hard to stop grinning like an idiot now that he and Lacey were dating, and even found himself unexpectedly granting rent extensions, much to the surprise of nervous tenants. He made dinner for her again later in the week, and she stayed the night, Darcy curled at their feet as they drifted into sleep. It was pleasant being nuzzled awake by a purring cat and finding Lacey in his arms. It was a feeling he could get used to.

They had eventually managed to finish the interview, most of which was carried out in bed, and he had found himself telling her things he had previously had no intention of revealing. He blamed that on Lacey; it was difficult to maintain his usual cool distance when she was wearing his discarded shirt and looking at him as though he was a particularly delicious snack. She kept her word about giving him the final say on the article, however, and upon reading her draft, he noted that she had kept some of the more personal details to herself. He only felt the need to redact a couple of minor points about his early life, but was happy to let the remainder stand as it was. If the rest of Storybrooke was surprised at the intimacy of the piece and his sudden desire to be open about his life - well, they could all go and fuck themselves, as far as he was concerned.

The only opinions he cared about were those of his family, and it wasn’t too long before Neal called. Gold sighed as he looked at the number flashing on his phone. They’re gonna tease me relentlessly about this. Emma especially.

Shaking his head and smirking to himself, he picked up.

“Dad, hi,” said Neal. “Thought you might have called to let us know how your big social occasion went. You’re not avoiding the issue, right?”

“Of course not,” said Gold. “Been a busy week, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh. Emma thought you’d say that.” Neal sounded amused. “She’s been dying to find out about the dance, so I said I’d call for an update.”

“Tell her she needs a better hobby than worrying about my social life,” said Gold dryly. “How’s Henry? I was wondering what to get for his birthday.”

“Nice attempt at deflection, but I’m not done with you,” said Neal. “Come on, how did it go?”

“Uh - it was fine,” said Gold.

“Did you ask Lacey to dance, like I said?”

“Yes.” Gold hesitated. “We’re - uh - sort of dating now.”

Neal whooped, making him grin.

“Way to go! See, I knew you could do it!”

“Yes, well.” Gold scratched the back of his neck, feeling awkward. “It’s early days, I suppose. Very early days, but it’s going well.”

“I am so happy for you, really. Wait until I tell Emma.”

“She’s gonna tease me, isn’t she?” said Gold dryly.

“No more than usual.”

“A lot, then.”

“Hey, her teasing comes from a place of love.”

“Hmm.” Gold was amused. “Well, you can tell her I love her too.”

“And you can tell Lacey we can’t wait to meet her,” said Neal, and Gold’s grin widened.

“I believe the feeling’s mutual,” he said.

“Good. How about in two weeks’ time?”

Gold smirked to himself.

“Excellent timing,” he said. “It’s the Mayoral debate and election.”

“I’m almost certain we can find something better to do than listen to some crusty old politicians.”

“I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised,” said Gold. “It could be an interesting night.”

The evening of the debate arrived more quickly than Lacey thought possible, and she was nervous about more than just reporting the evening’s events. Gold’s son and daughter-in-law were due any minute, and there was a tiny part of her that kept whispering that they wouldn’t approve, that they would wonder why the hell Gold, with his money and power and class, was dating the likes of her. Stressing over her coverage of the election was a welcome distraction from the unwelcome internal monologue, and she concentrated on getting her things together for the debate, checking the recording equipment on Gold’s kitchen table and fretting about the sound quality.

“You’ve already checked it three times,” he said. “It’s fine.”

“I’m supposed to be writing the front page article!” she snapped. “What happens if I fuck up and don’t get anything recorded? I’m gonna look like a total idiot and Sidney won’t trust me with anything more complex than the hot dog eating contest!”

“I can record everything on my phone, if you’re worried,” he said. “Besides, don’t you do shorthand?”

“Yeah, but—”

“You’ll be fine,” he said gently, and kissed her head. “I promise.”

The doorbell rang, and Lacey started, heart thumping.

“Relax, that’ll be Neal and Emma,” said Gold, heading for the door. Lacey frowned at his back.

“Relax, my arse,” she muttered, shoving the recording equipment into its bag.

There were voices from the hall, and a sudden burst of laughter, and she closed her eyes, willing herself to calm the hell down. Footsteps from the doorway made her look up, and she was greeted by a warm smile and an outstretched hand. Gold’s son had his eyes, and curling dark hair above a ready grin.

“I’m Neal,” he said. “Really pleased to meet you.”

“Lacey,” she said, shaking his hand. “Uh - likewise.”

She was reminded vividly of the fact that she had flashed him on their first encounter, and felt a blush start to rise in her cheeks. If Neal was thinking of it too, he was better at hiding it than she was. His wife was a pretty blonde, with a kind look in her eyes and a plump baby in her arms, who was glancing around curiously at everything.

“This is Emma,” added Neal, “and that’s Henry.”

“We’ve heard a lot about you,” said Emma, shooting Gold a teasing look.

“Well, I won’t ask if it was all good, because I’m willing to bet it wasn’t,” said Lacey, and they chuckled.

“Maybe not at first,” admitted Emma. “Don’t hold it against the old bastard, though.”

“Oh, believe me, the feeling was mutual,” said Lacey.

“I’m standing right here,” said Gold evenly.

Lacey caught Emma’s eye and returned her grin. She felt herself relax a little, and leaned over to kiss Gold’s cheek.

“We got there in the end,” she said. “Uh - how hungry are you guys? I didn’t even think about dinner.”

She shot Gold a look, hoping that he would suggest something, and he nodded.

“We’ll head to Granny’s after the debate,” said Gold. “I have no doubt that Lacey will be demonstrating her excellent skill as a journalist, and I’d hate for you to miss it.”

“No pressure then,” said Lacey, and he smiled.

“You’re writing the article for the Mirror front page,” he said. “You have an exclusive with the Mayor herself after the debate. Sidney Glass clearly believes you to be as capable as I do.”

“Yeah, because I got that interview with you,” she said. “I didn’t tell him we were naked when I got most of that info.”

Neal closed his eyes with a pained expression.

“Shows ingenuity if you ask me,” said Emma abruptly. “I can usually get a ton of stuff out of Neal when we’re naked. Must run in the family.”

It was Gold’s turn to look pained. Neal put his hands over his face with a heavy sigh, and Lacey and Emma chuckled. Lacey decided that she liked both Emma and Neal very much. She zipped her bag and nodded to Gold.

“Okay,” she said. “Wish me luck.”

The town hall was filled with residents, chatting amongst themselves and casting curious glances at the empty stage. Ruby was seated next to Leroy on the third row back, and she winked at Lacey as she and Gold took their own seats. Ruby had been delighted to hear that the two of them had started seeing one another, and had only made a salacious comment to Gold on one occasion. Maybe two.

“Big turnout,” said Neal, glancing around. “I had no idea the people in this town were so into politics.”

“Usually they don’t bother,” said Gold. “The Mayor getting some competition appears to have piqued their interest.”

As though his voice had summoned her, Regina walked onto the stage, chin held high, looking calm and competent in a sharp black suit. Zelena followed, in a green dress with a soft silk scarf around her neck and gold hoops in her ears. A green folder was tucked under her arm, her hair tied up, and Lacey thought she was going for the image of a respectable school teacher. A gleam in her eye spoiled the look.

Dr Hopper was moderating the debate, and Lacey quickly checked her recording equipment and opened her laptop, rattling off a few sentences about the tense atmosphere of the hall and the opening statements from each of the candidates. Zelena gave a speech about decency and traditional values, at which Regina seemed to be stopping herself from rolling her eyes with some difficulty. Regina spoke of her record on town planning, law and order—she shot Zelena a look at that point—and prosperity.

“Thank you, ladies,” said Dr Hopper, when she was done. “Now, perhaps we’ll go to some questions from the press before we deal with those the townsfolk have submitted.”

“I have a question for Miss West,” said Lacey, in a loud, clear voice, shoving her laptop at Gold as she got to her feet.

Zelena’s mouth twisted, her smile more of a grimace.

“Of course,” she said lightly. “It’s - uh - I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

She waved a languid hand, and Lacey felt her mouth flatten.

“Lacey French, Storybrooke Mirror,” she said evenly, and Zelena let out a tinkling laugh.

“Of course, silly me,” she trilled. “How could I forget Storybrooke’s eager young reporter? Lending the local newspaper such an air of class in that - lovely - outfit.”

There was a muttering amongst the townsfolk, and Lacey distinctly heard Ruby say ‘What a bitch!’, but she smiled sweetly as though she hadn’t understood the insult.

“Yeah, I have a question about your motivation for running for Mayor,” she said. “You said yourself you’ve never been involved in politics, so what inspired you to make this move now?”

Zelena smiled widely.

“Well, as I said, I thought about where I could do the most good,” she said. “Storybrooke is a wonderful town, with many excellent qualities, but talking to its residents has made me realise that there’s a feeling that it may be lacking direction. I sense a need for a return to the basics of community. Neighbourliness. Family values. The traditions of small-town America that we all grew up with.”

“But you grew up in England,” said Lacey. “Wasn’t your father a diplomat? How do you know this view of America is either accurate or desirable?”

Zelena’s nostrils flared as she continued to smile brightly.

“Well,” she said. “Who’s been doing her homework?”

“Yeah, it’s just that people hear politicians mention tradition and family values, and all too often it’s a smoke-screen to hide racism and homophobia,” went on Lacey. “How would you address those concerns?”

Zelena spread her hands.

“I’d say look at my record,” she said. “Since I moved here I’ve made it clear that I’m happy to work with people of all backgrounds. It’s important that no one feels left out, and my initial conversations have led me to believe that there are concerns, and that some residents feel that their interests are not - fully appreciated - by the Mayor.”

“What kind of interests?” asked Lacey quickly, before Zelena could turn away, and her mouth twisted again as she tried to keep smiling.

“As I said, some feel that traditional family values are being lost in the push for modernity,” she said. “I’d like to reassure them that I stand for everything that Storybrooke represents. Decency. Morality.”

“Does that mean you think the Mayor is immoral?” asked Lacey, and Zelena pulled a face.

“I think there have been some questionable decisions at city hall under her watch, yes,” she said. “Does anyone really think that a seedy bar called Queens of Darkness is fitting for this town?”

“It’s a jazz club,” said Regina. “And there’ll be dance lessons each week. A perfectly respectable establishment, run by three accomplished businesswomen.”

Zelena let out that insincere laugh again, and Lacey sat down, retrieving her laptop from Gold and opening it up as Zelena addressed the room.

“Well, it’s not only the company the Mayor keeps,” she said. “We’ve all heard the rumours. Missing money, accounts not holding quite as much as people thought…”

“That’s an outrageous lie,” said Regina coldly. “Where’s your evidence, Miss West?”

Zelena smirked, as though she had been waiting for that very question. She held up the green folder, showing it to the room.

“I have the evidence right here,” she announced. “A brave employee of city hall managed to smuggle this out to me. Evidence that the Mayor has been embezzling town funds!”

There was a shocked intake of breath around the room. Lacey typed furiously.

“How dare you!” snapped Regina. “That’s a lie and you know it!”

“I believe this is my allotted time to speak!” Zelena snapped back. “I think the people of Storybrooke deserve to know exactly who you really are, don’t you? They should understand the choice before them!”

The doors at the end of the hall opened, and there was the sound of heavy boots on the floor. Zelena looked surprised, and then somewhat nervous, and a low-level muttering started up in the audience. Lacey glanced over her shoulder, watching as Sheriff Graham Humbert walked towards the stage with his deputy Dorothy Gale by his side. Regina appeared to be drumming her fingers on the lectern, and Lacey couldn’t work out whether it was anxiety or impatience.

“Miss West,” said Graham. “We’d like you to come with us, please.”

“Why?” demanded Zelena. “I’m a little busy winning this election, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“It’s a matter of obstruction of justice,” said Graham. “If you could come to the station, please.”

Zelena opened and closed her mouth, a sudden flicker of fear in her eyes.

“What if I say no?”

“I’d prefer not to have to handcuff you,” said Graham.

“But we will if we have to,” added Dorothy, folding her arms.

“This is a conspiracy!” blurted Zelena, waving a finger at Regina. “Did the Mayor put you up to this? This is exactly the kind of corruption I’m talking about! The Sheriff being used as the Mayor’s enforcer!”

“Miss West…”

“Mayor Mills will do whatever it takes to silence me!” she went on. “She’s scared I’ve exposed her for what she is!”

“Miss West, I didn’t want to have to arrest you, but…”

“One hint of competition and she calls in her - her goon squad to crush it!”

“Oh, for God’s sake, I know you’re my sister!” said Regina loudly.

Silence fell, and Lacey hurriedly typed a few sentences, describing the shocked atmosphere of the town hall. Zelena was staring at Regina, eyes wide and nostrils flaring.

“I wasn’t going to mention it,” said Regina, curling her lip. “I wanted to give you a chance to be a decent person and deal with this in an honourable way. But since you’re determined to try to ruin my life for no good reason, then yes. I’m well aware we share the same mother, and frankly she’d be disappointed at this pathetic bid for attention.”

“How dare you—”

“I believe it’s my turn to speak,” interrupted Regina. “We’ve listened to enough of your rambling this evening. Since you’d been dropping hints about corruption in my office, I had Sheriff Humbert investigate. He told me earlier this evening that someone had been planting evidence to try to frame me. No doubt that’s what he wants to speak to you about.”

“This is—”

“The residents of Storybrooke know how seriously I take my duties as Mayor,” Regina went on, addressing the room as a whole now. “They know that I value their support and their trust. Of course I’d want any threat to that to be investigated. I’m just - I’m beyond disappointed that the threat comes from my half-sister.”

Her voice echoed around the silent room. Lacey was watching the townsfolk avidly, their eyes fixed on Regina as she spoke.

“I had no idea that my mother had had a daughter before me, no idea that I had another family member out there in the world,” she went on. “Her coming to Storybrooke should have been a time of joy and reunion. But instead of her reaching out to me, she tries to undermine me, to take away the most important job I have in this town.”

She looked down, shaking her head, and Gold leaned in close.

“I wonder how much of this is for the benefit of the voters and how much is genuine,” he murmured.

“Maybe fifty-fifty,” Lacey whispered back, and he nodded in agreement.

Regina raised her head, taking a deep breath, as though steeling herself for something unpleasant. Graham and Dorothy had edged towards the stage, Dorothy removing the cuffs from her belt.

“All I can do now,” said Regina, “is trust that justice will take its course.”

“You know nothing about justice!” shouted Zelena, as the Sheriff started reading her her rights. “You’ll pay for this! All of you!”

She was still yelling when Dorothy handcuffed her and marched her from the room. The sound of the doors closing was very loud in the silence that remained.

“Well,” said Regina, placing her hands on the lectern and looking around the room. “I think we can all agree that this was one of the more - eventful - political debates this town has seen.”

There was a ripple of nervous laughter, and she smiled.

“I truly hope that Miss West gets the help she so desperately needs,” she went on. “And when she has, I want her to know that she’s welcome to visit with Mallory and I. After all, we may not be able to choose our family, but that makes it all the more important to nurture the bonds we share with those around us.”

There were noises of agreement from the audience, and Gold leaned in close again.

“Ever the politician,” he murmured, and Lacey nodded.

“Storybrooke is like an extended family to me,” went on Regina, “and all families have their moments of conflict and frustration, but underneath that there is respect for one another, and a common set of values. I believe I have lived by those values for every year that I’ve served as your Mayor. I will always reach out to those in need and I will always act in the best interests of this town. Under my leadership, Storybrooke will continue to prosper. I guarantee it.”

There was applause, and a couple of cheers, and Regina nodded, looking extremely self-satisfied. She started taking questions, and Gold kissed Lacey’s cheek and whispered that he would see her in the diner when she was done. She watched him leave with his family, Emma balancing the baby on her hip and Neal pushing the stroller after them. Lacey turned back to listen to Regina field a question about the state of the town’s roads, bent her head to her laptop, and began typing up her article on the Mayoral debate.

She emailed the article over to Sidney before leaving for the diner, and walked back there with Ruby, who was chattering about the drama that had unfolded. Regina had been in her element when answering the remaining questions, and Lacey had felt a surge of satisfaction over her part in exposing a crime. Perhaps small town life offered the chance for rewarding work after all. She could see Gold and his family through the window, and his face lit up as she entered, making her stomach flip. Damn the man. I’m falling in love with him.

“Excellent job this evening,” he said, getting up to pull her chair out and kissing her cheek. “I got you a rum and coke, I hope that’s okay.”

“Perfect,” she said fervently, and took a slurp, relishing the taste on her tongue.

“How’d the Mayor look at the end of all that?” asked Emma, and Lacey pulled a face.

“The whole place gave her a round of applause, and she was looking about as satisfied as she could, I guess,” she said. “I still feel kind of sorry for her. Not every day you find out you have a half sister. Especially one that’s out to get you.”

“Well, it could have been a lot worse,” said Gold. “I very much doubt Miss West will present much of a challenge from a jail cell.”

Lacey nodded, taking another sip of her drink.

“Does this mean you and Regina are friends now?” she asked, and Gold smirked.

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,” he said. “What’s that term the kids use these days?”

“Frenemies?”

“That’s the one.”

“Kind of like we were,” she observed, and he laughed.

“Regina would fillet me with a letter opener if I even contemplated looking at her the way I look at you.”

“No, I don’t mean that,” she said. “I just meant - well, we kind of had that thing where we poked at each other to get a reaction, right?”

Gold looked as though he was trying very hard not to laugh, and she swatted his arm.

“Stop thinking about dirty stuff! You know what I mean!”

“I do,” he acknowledged. “And I, for one, am very glad that we - er - got the reaction we wanted.”

“You’re still thinking about dirty stuff, aren’t you?” said Emma shrewdly, and Gold shrugged.

“Maybe a little.”

They ate ribs, sticky with Granny’s special sauce, licking it from their fingers and washing it down with beer and wine and rum. By the time they got out into the cool night air, Lacey felt wonderfully tipsy, and regretted putting on her high heels earlier in the evening. At least there was no one else around to see if she fell on her arse, she supposed. Neal and Emma were walking ahead, pushing the stroller and talking quietly, and Lacey let out a sigh, slipping her arm through Gold’s for support, and resting her head on his shoulder.

“I ate too much,” she said, and Gold chuckled.

“We all ate too much.”

“You didn’t throw half of it over your lap, though.”

“No, I thought I’d leave that to you.”

“Stupid gravity,” muttered Lacey, and he laughed, squeezing her arm with his.

“Tired?” he asked.

“Yeah. Long day.”

“Maybe you should have an early night.”

She glanced up at him, and he was grinning at her, his eyes twinkling.

“How’s that gonna work?” she asked flatly. “Your family’s staying over. No way I’m letting you give me screaming orgasms while they’re in the room next door.”

“In that case I could sneak over to yours,” he suggested. “You could scream to your heart’s content.”

Lacey giggled, barging him affectionately with her shoulder.

“I think I love you, Mr Gold,” she said, and Gold stopped dead, turning to face her with a stunned look on his face.

“Really?”

Lacey turned to face him, taking his hand.

“Really,” she said. “I mean I’m kind of drunk, but that’s not why I’m saying it. I think I’ve sort of been in love with you for a while now. Is that okay?”

He was staring at her, wide-eyed, and a softness seemed to spill over his features, making his eyes gleam as he smiled.

“Well,” he said. “I think I love you, too, Miss French. Is that okay?”

“More than okay.”

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then raised his chin.

“D’you want to move in?” he asked.

“Can I bring Darcy?”

“Of course.”

“Then you got a deal.”

He was grinning, and she found herself grinning back, her heart swelling with love for him.

“Let’s wait until after Neal and Emma go before I move in, though,” she said. “I think you said something about screaming orgasms?”

Gold’s grin turned wicked, and he bent his head to kiss her.

“I’ll be over later.”

She let his lips pull at hers, leaning in to feel the warmth of his body as his arms went around her, and let out a sigh of contentment. Yes. Life in a small town could be amazing.

#fic: heatstroke #golden lace fic #rumbelle fic #golden lace #rumbelle #my fic

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disloopy · 3 years

Text

𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐞

i wanted to write a college au but i was also horny so this came into existence.

tendou satori

word count: 6199

genre: smut but with a plot??

It was hard to study with your parents constantly bickering in the living room downstairs. Ever since you moved back in with them, you've found it hard to concentrate on virtually anything besides their frequent, yet petty, arguments. Sometimes you'd stay at college late into the evenings under the guise of classes and assignments but really you just hated being around them. The stress of school was already a mounting threat without the emotional toll of your parents' nearly shattered relationship.

Scraping your chair back as you stood up, you decided you'd had enough. You shoved your textbooks, notebooks, and some random clothing articles from the top of your drawer into a bag and ran down the stairs. Your mother twisted her body around to face you from the couch, an eyebrow raised.

"Where are you going, young lady?"

You didn't look at her in the process of yanking on your shoes. "I'm going to Sam's house or am I not even allowed to visit her without you breathing down my neck?" you asked sharply, feeling your heart hammer in your chest. You were fed up. "I'm twenty and under no obligation to listen to the two of you arguing about whatever movie you want to watch just because you don't have the cajones to discuss the real issue!"

With finality, you slammed the door shut behind you and hopped onto your bike, pedaling as fast as legally possible out of the neighborhood. You always knew that the main reason your parents had urged you to move back in with them was to fill the empty void their failed marriage left in the house. At first, even you were convinced that your presence would revitalize their marriage and they'd remember why they loved each other from the start.

However, their own child wasn't enough to give them a reason to put aside their differences and love each other for what they were - a family; a family, you knew, should be willing to sacrifice a part of their individual lives for each other, that's what it meant to be married.

But your parents weren't even willing to confront the problem -- not being in love with each other anymore -- much less work it out. At your age, you were aware of the fact that love wasn't all a marriage needed, there was responsibility and sacrifice and with a little understanding, the love could be rekindled, not just once but multiple times throughout the life spent together. The last thing you'd want was for them to separate and you were quite certain that with a little communication this hellish nightmare could be put past them. They were immature, you concluded. Your parents wanted to ignore it altogether, which would only leave them stumped at this obstacle, growing angrier with each bland dinner and mismatched grocery.

You couldn't take it anymore. Stopping your bike at a nearby convenience store to pick up a few snacks, you texted your boyfriend, Tendo. He was usually around, and usually free -- plus, he lived in a dorm all by himself. It was the perfect escape from your exhausting household. Without waiting for a reply, you journeyed across a few streets to get to the college residence and parked your bike anywhere. It wasn't worth enough to get stolen and even if some desperate thief decided to have some fun, it would only serve as an excuse for your parents to finally get you a car.

After the long and silent elevator ride which seemed to compress you on all sides, you arrive at the seventh floor and felt your shoulders relax almost immediately. You'd been here so many times it was like a second home to you. Tendo's place always gave you the relief you wanted after a tiresome day of school, or your parents, or both.

Struggling to keep the strap of your heavy bag filled with books, clothes, and food on your shoulder, you lightly knocked on the front door. There were sounds of incomprehensible yelling and laughter coming from inside which you thought was strange but not enough to question it.

When there was no answer and you were fed up with waiting, you decided to try the knob which was surprisingly unlocked. So, you entered the house and called out loudly, "Tendo? It's Y/N". Not even a step later, a strong scent of weed hit your nose directly and you winced.

"Y/N?" said a voice, followed by Tendo rolling back in a computer chair, tugging his headset to his neck with the hand that wasn't latched onto the controller, his eyes wide in pleasant surprise.

"Hey," you said quietly, smiling at the sight of him. "I texted you . . ."

"Oh, sorry. I was in a game so I didn't check my phone," Tendo murmured, throwing a distracted glance at his phone on the couch before immediately returning his attention to the screen, his headset back on his ears. "I SAID COVER ME!"

"He's been yelling all match," someone said and you startled, looking back at the couch to see one of Tendo's friends, Semi, sitting cross-legged on the couch, a hoodie covering most of his head and a bong tucked between his thighs. It was unusual for Tendo to have friends over. Even at school, he rarely sat with a large group of friends for long. On weekends, it was mostly just you and him when it could be.

"I swear I'm playing with 11 year olds," Tendo remarked as the screen flashed red, signaling his team's failure. He spun around in his chair and glanced between you and Semi. "Sit down, Y/N, what the fuck. Semi got kicked out of his parents house so he's gonna be here for a while."

You widened your eyes. "You got kicked out?"

The ashy-blonde haired boy nodded, seeming casual as he fiddled with the bong. "They caught me smoking in the basement and said they didn't want me back till I quit," he explained with a shrug. "I miss my drum set but I'd rather be free to smoke, if I'm being honest."

Tendo shook his head, amused. "Get a fucking job, Semi -- then you can pay for half of this place and we can live together."

"Really?" Semi's eyes lit up and he seemed attentive for the first time that night. "I totally should, huh? I can work at some government institute, you know? They'll see that I'm smart since I major in political science . . ."

"Tendo, can I get in the shower?" you asked and Tendo nodded of course. As you were about to disappear down the hall before turning around and feeling blush creep onto your cheeks when Tendo gave you a questioning look. "Um . . . I also . . . Wanted to stay here for a bit. My parents are just really . . ."

"You can!" Tendo said with an enthusiasm that made your heart jump with pleasure. "It'll be fun with the three of us. I'm sorry about your parents though."

The shower was warm and almost therapeutic with the muffled sounds of Tendo's frustration with his team and Semi teasing him about it. You even sat down on the porcelain for a bit, the soothing water sprinkling down on your bare body. When you had finally decided to come out, you found that Semi was eating the snacks you'd brought along with you. Although you were initially doubtful of him staying over with you and Tendo, you quickly grew more open about it. He was normally quiet and serious, but the weed seemed to open him up to being actually friendly and talkative, not failing to make you laugh several times that evening.

"Yo, if you make my girl laugh that much I'm gonna have to ask you to leave," Tendo said, throwing a cheeto at Semi's head.

You eventually fell asleep on the couch, Tendo and Semi's voice almost serving as a lullaby. You'd rather hear their weed-inspired symposium in your sleepy stupors than the sound of your parents arguing. Some time that night, unknown to the dizzy you, Tendo had hauled you into his arms and transferred you to the warm security of his bed, wrapping his covers around you, and then wrapping his arms around you.

The next morning, Semi was already gone for an 8am class. Despite sharing Tendo's major, he had registered very late and got the worst schedule a student could ask for. You and Tendo, however, were able to fool around in the bathroom (no, not like that. Tendo spit toothpaste on you), and eat lazy bowls of cereal before heading out, walking under the warm morning sun to get to campus.

When you'd arrived at your own class, Tendo let you know he'd wait for you at the college center after class. You checked your phone while the professor was setting up his stuff. Disappointment settled in your chest at the realization that your parents hadn't bothered to check up on you. You hadn't given them the heads-up that you would be staying over at "Sam's" house and although you declared that you weren't under their jurisdiction, you half-expected a "should we wait up for you?" text from either parent.

You tried to push your dejectedness and self-pity in order to pay attention to your lecture. The anger formed into a kind of resistance, telling you to stay as contactless from them as possible, waiting for one of them to care about your absence, or at least notice.

After class, you stopped by the vending machine to buy Tendo and yourself two bottles of juice before walking with your head down to the college center. You didn't want to see any of your friends or anyone for that matter. You wanted to be alone . . . With Tendo. He knew how to give you the reassurance and comfort you needed without uttering a single word. Sometimes you wondered if he was even aware of the effect he had on you. Did he know how his mere presence could reduce your anxiety? The man was like a remedy.

You spotted Tendo slumped on one of the couches, thumbs tapping away on his phone and you were almost certain he was engaged in a game of COD mobile. Then he seemed to notice you and he lifted his bright red-haired head up, shoving his phone in his pocket.

"Damn bay-bee!" Tendo whistled and you rolled your eyes as an instant reaction to his typical attention-drawing behaviour. "Hot girl alert," he announced, grinning at you.

"Shut up!" you yelled, chucking a juice bottle at him, which he caught with extraneous ease. You would've been surprised if you weren't already familiar with the fact that he, along with Semi, were on the volleyball team of a prestigious high school. He never failed to remind you and always talked about a mysterious "best friend" named Ushijima who he strongly believed would be famous one day.

Grateful that no one was staring at you two anymore, you collapsed next to Tendo, resting your head on his shoulder. He had produced his phone once again and you realized he had been texting Semi. You didn't want to intrude on his messages but you couldn't help catch parts of the conversation. He was going out drinking with Semi later because they had both received excellent grades on one of their tests. This also didn't come as a surprise because although you've never actually seen Tendo studying, he always did well on his tests.

Tendo turned to you. "You can go ahead back to my place," he suggested, twirling his dorm keys around his finger as he handed them to you. You gave him a small smile when he left you with a parting kiss on the lips as you separated for your next class.

You didn't see him again before leaving campus to return to Tendo's house. As you walked, you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. Why hadn't Tendo ask you to join him? You shook your head, why were you even thinking of such a thing when you knew you hated drinking? But some uncomfortable tug in your chest left you questioning whether Tendo even wanted you at his place. Maybe he had accepted to be polite, or because he felt sorry for you . . . or because he didn't want to say no to you in front of Semi.

The biting thoughts bounced around your head, a reminder that Tendo loved you popping up every now and then to shoot those thoughts into a corner but not doing much to quell your worries.

You spent your evening studying, getting excited only at the occasional text from Tendo, making sure you got home fine, or that you knew you could eat anything in his fridge, or sleep in his bed if you were tired, or play on his PlayStation if you were bored. You did neither of those things, not touching a single thing in his kitchen even while your poor stomach cried with hungry grumbles.

You felt sick to your stomach, opting to switch on the television for background noise as you hugged your knees on the couch. There was an aching fear building up inside of you, fear that you were as unwanted to your boyfriend as you were to your own parents. You knew you shouldn't have been insecure, he'd always been there for you and never gave you a reason to doubt him.

But it had been quite a while since he'd last told that he loved you, sincerely, from the bottom of his heart. A lot could change within a person in that sort of time. And the last time the two of you had sex or even really made out was several months ago before you moved in with your parents. You could blame that on the chaos of school, both of you being in your second-years with exams and pressure to find jobs keeping your heads under water.

Nonetheless, the fear of Tendo falling out of love with you the same way your father fell out of love with your mother still existed and was still very real. You could always untangle this very confusing frustration with Tendo, he'd never shied away from important conversations. However, despite the many insecurities he'd helped you through, this just wasn't one you wanted him to hear.

And maybe you were like your parents in that way . . .

You dropped your head into your lap, feeling the burn of tears in your eyes, your chest tightening under the pressure of the worries you knew had no foundations but still pushed their way into your system. Eventually, your eyes had drooped and your brain was shifting in and out of focus with the screen before you.

Before you could really fall asleep though, you heard the sound of the door opening and Tendo's voice informing you of his presence. You hummed in response and Tendo furrowed his brows at you, jumping in next to you on the couch. You could tell he was still a little delirious from drinking but not enough to turn you away from him, as you usually did when he got completely wasted.

"Y/N, I went to the corner store on the way back and got you the cake you said you really liked," Tendo mumbled, putting his arms around you and pulling you closer. You wanted the cake, sure, but to be truthful, you wanted him more than anything.

"I just wanna fuck," you blurted out and Tendo's head instantly snapped up to look at you, a lazy grin pulling at the edges of his lips.

"Uh? You wanna what?"

You blushed, tugging your knees to your chest but Tendo's hands were already on them, pulling them apart. "I said I wanna fuck," you murmur.

"That's right, baby," said Tendo, settling himself between your thighs as he licked his lips. "I knew what you said, I wanted to hear you say it again."

"I got it, stupid," you told him, curling your fingers around the shoulders of Tendo's shirt and bringing his chest to yours before connecting your lips. The effect was immediate. You simultaneously relaxed and tensed up underneath the weight of his body, completely winded by the effortlessness with which his tongue moved past your lips and pressed to your own.

"You're right, I deserve this," Tendo breathed against your lips, a hand going to your thigh and guiding your leg around his waist. You hadn't said that but didn't care enough to point it out. "I can't call it a treat without wrecking this pretty body of yours." Your heart fluttered with his words and you watched him trail his lips down your chin, jaw, and neck toward the now exposed skin of your chest as he hooked a finger over the collar of your sweater and forced it down.

You shut your eyes, drowning in the anxious ecstasy of what was to come, the outcome of all this; him inside of you, filling you up, and fighting off all your worries with each sway of his hips against yours.

His teeth grazed against your skin and you pressed your lips together, knowing it was going to be followed by a bite and it did. Tendo bit and tugged at your sensitive skin, earning a pained gasp from your lips before smoothing over the sting with his tongue. It hurt but in that good way you never wanted it to stop, not until every inch of your body was covered in marks from him and only him.

Tendo had always liked to take his time. Even now, with you practically squirming and wordlessly begging for him. You could tell by the way he rubbed the seam of his jeans right against the very spot you craved him most, knocking the air out of your lungs and making your hips snap up against his, which caused you both to moan (Tendo's turned into choked laughter). He usually opted to wear sweatpants or, at best, trousers, but the roughness of his jeans really did amplify the feeling and although it made you throb almost everywhere, you were starting to get impatient.

"Jinx," Tendo groaned, dropping his head into the crook of your neck as your fingernails raked through his messy hair.

"Shut up, Tendo, just . . . Fuck . . . Get inside already," you said between shallow breaths. Tendo was already doing that, wedging a hand between both your bodies to unbutton his jeans. But between making jokes of your desperation and dry-humping you right on his couch, Tendo (and you) failed to realize that you had company.

The sound of the door swinging open almost completely shattered your preoccupation with each other. Tendo dragged himself off you and onto his knees while you propped yourself up, slightly embarrassed but more so disappointed when Semi walked into the living room, squinting at the two of you.

"Oh," he said, realizing what he had interrupted with a nod. High Semi was a lot different than this not-very-drunk or just-sober-enough Semi, who was stoic and didn't laugh the awkwardness off like you expected. "S-sorry about that," he stuttered and made to head towards his own room.

Tendo turned back to you with a smile that told you he didn't mind continuing what you two had already started. He didn't mind . . . But that probably didn't mean he wanted to. Neither did you with Semi in the next room. The heavy feeling from earlier took residence in your stomach once more, unwarranted and so quick you felt tears spring to your eyes.

Pushing Tendo off, you ran to his room in order to cry without his prying eyes, kind as they were. But you knew you wouldn't have the room for very long. The five minutes you really were alone, you were quite sure Tendo was trying to give you space or wonder what he'd done wrong. Then the door opened and he stepped in and you buried your head in your hands.

"Y/N, what the fuck is up with you?" He asked, but in a gentle tone before you felt his hand on your back, rubbing soothingly. "Why are you crying, hm? Look at me." Tendo tugged on your forearm and practically forced your head up. You stared at him through tear-blurry vision.

"Why didn't you invite me to come with you and Semi?" You stuttered dumbly and Tendo blinked in surprise.

"I-I didn't think you'd want to come," he answered with a shrug and a look of guilt marred the fond carelessness of his face. "Usually you say no . . . I'm sorry, I should've asked."

You shook your head quickly and realized you were doing exactly what you hated about your parents: avoiding the problem. But how could you not avoid the problem when the problem was questioning his love for you? Maybe you were the immature one, thinking talking about those things was so simple. It wasn't.

So you just said, "Sorry, I've been having a rough week . . . "

Tendo nodded, understanding. "Do you want Semi out of here?"

"W-What? No, no, no," you said quickly, wiping your wet eyes. "He needs somewhere to stay, I-I don't mind. It's mostly just . . . " you braced yourself to finally voice your fear out loud. Tendo's eyes on you, full of concern and attention. "I'm sick of my parents," you ended up saying and then cringed with your whole body.

"They fighting again?" Tendo asked, wrapping an arm around your waist and maneuvering the two of you against the bed frame to lean back. You leaned into his chest and relaxed in the comforting scent of him.

"They haven't checked up on me," you murmured, feeling slightly embarrassed for needing your parents attention this much. Tendo just stroked his fingers through your hair, intently listening. "I didn't tell them I'd be away from home and I usually never am. But they haven't even texted me to ask. I just feel like I'm not wanted there."

"They're probably just lost in their own issues to even think about dealing with you," Tendo said and he seemed to have the simplest answers to the complicated worries in your heart. "Stay here with me, just until they really get worried. Besides you're wanted here all the time."

You lifted your head and smiled. "Thanks Tendo, I-I love you," you mumbled shyly and Tendo grinned, shaking his head in amusement.

"I love you too," he replied without hesitating. The two of you soon fell asleep, Tendo changing out of his jeans first and yelling at you to get in your pajamas, before throwing a shirt at your head. You were too tired to get up now and Tendo knew that but it didn't stop him from trying. He gave up shortly and muttered something about you being a stubborn little bitch before sinking into the mattress next to you and shutting off the lights.

The next week flew by just like that. You were getting quite used to living with Tendo and he seemed to be happy with that. Most days were just busy with school and assignments, the slower days were spent in wondering if Semi would be home now or then to gauge how long the two of you had alone. But in that worry itself, you and Tendo would miss the opportunity Semi seemed to have intentionally been giving you each time. Dinners were nice since the three of you got along very well. Tendo would usually make the jokes, vulgar or downright shocking, causing you to almost choke up your food and Semi to roll his eyes yet smirk all the same.

Semi had found a job as a male receptionist at some package delivering company, which was a grounds for all three of you to celebrate. Tendo explained that they probably only wanted Semi because he was eye-candy for anyone entering the building. You agreed that Semi was very pretty and Tendo pouted at you.

Friday night, the bong was reintroduced and you surrendered to the thought of really forgetting all your stress and just getting high. Which you did. And it was really relieving. So the next day, you decided it couldn't hurt to have another session. Semi had gone off to work and he wouldn't be back till very late, which gave you and Tendo time to smoke a little and fuck a lot.

But neither of you were really in the mood that evening and you could tell by the lack of foreplay Tendo usually invested in before putting it inside. He was out of focus and so were you, lying in his bed and occasionally moaning when he hit the right spot.

And when he'd pulled out so quick, you couldn't help lifting your head in confusion. "T-Tendo, what—" but the question was cut off with warm liquid spraying over your bare chest and splashing onto your mouth, droplets almost hitting your eyes before you shut them.

"Ah shit!" Tendo gasped, giggling breathlessly. "I'm s-sorry about that. I just wanted to cum on your tits."

"I'm gonna get pink-eye!" You complained, wiping your eyes and mouth with the back of your hand.

"Don't be dramatic," he said dismissively, hopping off the bed and disappearing into the closet. You blinked, heavy breaths living your lips and slightly disoriented. But Tendo had really just . . . Done that, without bothering to ask if you'd finished (he never really asked because it was quite obvious you had every time, but not tonight).

Before the worthlessness could settle in, a towel was thrown directly at your face and now you were just . . . Really angry. Your own boyfriend seemed to have used you and discarded you, you thought, furiously wiping yourself down with the towel and watching Tendo from the corner of your eye light up a joint and take a deep drag from it.

You slipped your shirt back over your bare chest and stared down at your lap as he breathed out, smoke filling the air and your nose. You just wanted to turn around and sleep.

"Y/N," said Tendo, prompting you to glance up at him. You shifted your gaze to him and saw that he was dangling a pair of handcuffs in one hand and a collar with a chain attached to it in another. Tendo grinned lazily, the joint hanging from his lips as he tossed both on the bed, you gazing at them in wonder.

"Do you wanna try these?" He asked, setting the joint aside and crawling onto the bed. "I ordered them a while ago, they're cheap as fuck but if we like them — if you like them — we can get something proper."

You licked your lips, excitement rising in your stomach. "I . . . Um . . . Yes! I'd like to try . . ."

"That's my girl," said Tendo eagerly, clicking the collar around your neck with a sly smile. "You look pretty fucking hot, if I'm being honest." He turned your head to the side so you could see yourself in the mirror. You couldn't help but agree with your boyfriend. The presence of the collar on your throat did wonderful things to your conscious.

Then there was a rough tug on the chain, squeezing the collar around your neck, and a whimper tumbled past your lips as Tendo forced you to face him. Tendo's eyes widened in wicked surprise as he stared at you and felt yourself blushing.

"This chain comes in handy then, I bet," he muttered with a smile.

Once your shirt was off and the handcuffs were locked around your wrists, both behind your back, Tendo pushed you to the ground in front of him and swung his feet off the bed. He reached one of his large hands towards you, fingers immediately tangling in your hair as you made quick work of him. The constant yanking on your hair and the choked grunts Tendo made was really adding to the rush of it all. Especially when he pushed your head down and forced himself deeper into your throat.

"Take all of my cock," he hissed out the order, the chain of your collar wrapped around his free hand, tugging at it every now and then when he wanted you to look at him. You accepted every praise that followed, tears forming at the edge of your vision with each thrust. "You look so pretty like this, baby. God, I love face-fucking you . . . You're so good . . . You're the best."

After he'd shuddered and his cock twitched, sending a warm stream of cum down your throat, Tendo didn't stop there. He pulled the chain up, your head rising with it as the collar squeezed your neck. "Let me see," he whispered, gently gripping your jaw as you opened your mouth, feeling the liquid drip down your chin. "Good girl. Now swallow." The instruction was followed by the harsh slap of his palm against your ass, prompting you to obey.

"Ah!" you cried out, biting your lip. "Y-Yes, sir."

Tendo smirked and yanked the chain again, bringing your lips down upon his and the saltiness from earlier was wiped away as he sucked on your lips, grasping your hips and sitting you down on top of him where you could feel his cock pressing right against your entrance.

"Tell me what you want, baby," Tendo groaned as you moved your hips against him, your head buried in his neck along with your lips grazing his warm skin. Your wrists were sore and aching and all you wanted was to latch onto him but Tendo didn't seem to want to take them off just yet.

"Fuck me," you whispered against his ear.

Tendo didn't waste time, moving back so he was lying down on the bed, shirt off and you, on top of him, wanted to touch the tanned skin of his bare chest so bad. He watched your every moment with a dizzying intrigue, allowing you to fuck yourself on his cock while his fingers pressed bruises into your hips.

"Just like that, Y/N," he grunted through a clenched jaw, pushing you all the way down as he lifted his own hips and thrust up into you.

"Tendo!" You gasped, your head falling back, eyes shut tightly as the pain and pleasure shot up your body, releasing breathless moans from the base of your throat. "Fuck . . ."

Tendo grinned. "You ride me so well, Y/N . . . Ugh, fuck!" He pulled the chain towards him, swallowing your moan with the careful, wet kisses of his mouth. "You look so hot on top of me." You could feel the tight knots in your stomach slowly unraveling, the new angle doing mind-shattering things to your insides.

"I-I . . . Tendo . . ." You stuttered, blinking rapidly as the feeling overcame you.

Tendo's hands went to your thighs immediately, throwing you off of him and the sudden feeling of emptiness shocked you. "What the fuck?!" You cried, shaking the hair off your face as your wrists were still faithfully behind you.

"Let me fuck that pussy," Tendo muttered, shifting you onto your hands and knees before sinking into you from behind as your head pressed into the pillow beneath you. "You're so tight . . . I love this pussy . . ." Tendo bent over you, till his chest was pressed to your back, his hand still clamped around the chain of your collar, making sure you were being choked how he liked you.

"Moan for me, Y/N . . ." he whispered, lips and teeth clashing against the skin under your ear, your neck, your shoulder. You should've been embarrassed with the sounds leaving your parted mouth but you really couldn't focus on much besides the feeling of his cock buried deep inside you.

The mindless euphoria and muffled pain of it all drove every thought out of your head, the uncertainty and unease. You wanted to be as close to Tendo as possible and he wanted to be deep inside you. As your vision blurred and you were so close to completely losing it, Tendo pulled out of you again. Your jaw fell open but he'd flipped you around and frantically uncuffed your now throbbing wrists, tossing the handcuffs to the side, before sliding back into you.

"Fuucckkk . . ." He moaned, eyes fluttering but he tried to keep them open to watch your flushed face, your back arching until your breasts were pressed right up against his chest. The sound of profanities leaving his swelling lips was smothered as he sucked on your neck, your arms finally able to loop around his neck, yanking at his hair as he slipped his fingers between your legs. "C-Cum on my cock . . ." Tendo stuttered.

But you'd begged him to come inside and Tendo had to pull his head back to look at you with surprise. After the painful edging and denial, those words were enough to snap every knot in your stomach completely. Tendo had grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. "I wanna see you when you cum," he managed to choke out as you tried your best to keep your eyes open, focused on his gaze and the way it sent goosebumps all over your sweat-glistening body. Tendo had sped up and groaned a string of curse words as he released inside of you, and you had given to defeat, throwing your head back, mouth open in a silent cry before Tendo's hips slowed down and the room was filled with shuddering breaths and occasional whimpers.

"Holy fuck," Tendo whispered, unclipping the collar from around your neck and examining the red and almost bleeding skin before tossing the item to the side. "I'm so sorry . . . Did it hurt?"

"K-Kinda," you squeaked as he kissed your neck softly. Truthfully, you hadn't noticed it then but the pain was coming back to you in short bursts as you trembled underneath Tendo.

"I should've known considering it was like five bucks," he responded, dropping down next to you. You wrapped your arms around him and rested your head on his chest. Tendo seemed surprised by this as you two normally cleaned yourselves up first before cuddling.

"My parents are falling out of love," you blurted out.

Tendo scoffed, pushing your hair out of your face. "I just fucked you like you were a bitch in heat and the first thing you say is 'my parents are falling out of love' . . . What the fuck am I doing?" he murmured, leaning down and kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry to hear that, Y/N."

You licked your lips, trailing your fingers over Tendo's bare chest. "I-I'm scared that . . . That you don't love me anymore either."

"Oh . . . This fucking girl, you can't leave her alone with her thoughts for a second," Tendo teased. "I can tell you this, Y/N; sometimes it doesn't work between people and forcing it will just make it worse."

You nodded, shifting into a seated position so you could look at him properly. Tendo smiled at you, the mere action causing your heart to jump into you throat. "You're right . . . I'll have to hope for the best between my parents."

"That being said," Tendo continued, tucking your hair behind your ear gently. "I fucking love you and I don't plan on stopping so you can get that silly thought out of your head." There was a distant sound of the front door opening and when you'd glanced at the clock, you knew Semi was home. He'd announced his arrival and said,

"Keep fucking if you guys are fucking! I don't wanna ruin your relationship!"

Tendo rolled his eyes and hugged you closer, putting his chin on your shoulder. "You were amazing and I'm sorry about before . . ." You giggled. It seemed sort of trivial now. "You're beautiful by the way," Tendo said and you blushed. "Your face and body but also on the inside . . . and I'm not talking about these sweet insides I just ruined . . ."

"I know," You laughed as Tendo tickled your thigh with his fingertips.

"Y/N," said Tendo suddenly and you glanced at him. "D-Do you want to try something new?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Hey, I guess the handcuffs weren't enough, huh? Yeah, let's do something new!" But you weren't expecting Tendo to call for Semi. To your own surprise though, you didn't stop him and even smiled widely when the boy pushed the door open and froze, blush creeping onto his cheeks.

Tendo hadn't said anything further but your heart was pounding furiously again, especially when Semi's eyes shifted from Tendo to meet your own. He opened his mouth to say something but then thought better of it.

A second later, he was tugging at his own hoodie, the only two words that left his lips "fuck it" completely forgotten once the door shut and Tendo dimmed the lights.

#anime #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #anime smut #haikyuu tendou #tendou satori #tendou smut #smut #semi eita #tendou imagine #tendou drabble #tendou oneshot

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asweetprologue · 3 years

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me lámh le do lámh - Part VIII

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They left the next day just after the sunrise broke watery through the clouds still lingering overhead, not wanting to overstay their welcome. The walk back to the nearby village was an easy one, the air still cool from the recent rain. The innkeeper hadn’t given their pre-paid room away to other guests despite the fact that they hadn’t used it for anything more than storage, which was a surprise. It was noon by the time they made it back, and they were easily able to secure the room for another evening so early in the day. Jaskier agreed to play at dinner, so they even managed to get a slightly reduced rate.

When they made it up to the room, Jaskier flopped immediately down on the bed, throwing an arm over his face. “Melitele, I could sleep for a week,” he groaned, slightly muffled. “I haven’t been this sore in years.”

“Good for you to finally get some exercise,” Geralt smirked as he checked on their belongings. Everything was where they’d left it, luckily. Geralt let out a breath of relief to see his potions all secure in their bag, the oathstone nestled amongst them.

Jaskier lifted his arm enough to glare at him. “As if walking day in and day out at your side isn’t work enough.”

“You’ve ridden Roach more than I have over the last week,” Geralt pointed out.

Jaskier put his arm down, head tilted to the side to look in Geralt’s direction. His hair spilled messily across the pale sheets. “I suppose I have,” he said, a small furrow appearing in his brow. The easy energy he’d had since they’d woken this morning was gone; now he seemed tense. His eyes lost their focus, his mind clearly going elsewhere.

Geralt didn’t know what to make of it. Clearing his throat, he said, “I’m going to go and see if they have any contracts for me. We won’t be stopping much over the next few weeks.”

At this Jaskier refocused, curious. “Where are we going next? We have all the pieces for the ritual, right?”

Geralt nodded. “The last piece is a location. We’re going back to Posada.”

The journey from the Brokilon to the Blue Mountains was one of weeks, rather than days. At this time of year the River Sodden and her many roads were wide open, and they were able to easily pass south under the Mohakams. This far south, spring was already giving way to summer, the warm vestiges of the Nilfgaardian desert winds finding their way to the pockets and hills of Angren and Rivia.

It should have been a pleasant journey. It was one they’d taken many times before, once Nilfgaard was no longer an issue, and they were both well familiar with the area. They kept the river to their south and traveled during the cooler parts of the day, stopping often. The wide river offered a constant source of beauty and convenience, and they were able to wash and fish regularly. Rivia, though not Geralt’s home by any stretch of the imagination, was friendly and offered plenty of places for them to stop and rest at the halfway point.

It should have been downright delightful, but instead it was… tense. Jaskier was quiet and contemplative much of the time, reserved in a way Geralt had rarely known him to be. He barely touched his lute, to the point where Geralt asked after it, only receiving a vague and unconvincing answer about saving the strings from the humidity. He spent the evening hours scribbling away in his journal, or simply lying and staring up at the stars. Sometimes, disconcertingly, he watched Geralt, especially when he seemed to think Geralt wasn’t paying attention. The furrow between his brow had grown to be near constant, and his shoulders had lost their easy swoop. When they spoke, something about Jaskier’s words felt needling, as if he was testing the waters for something. What, Geralt couldn’t even begin to guess.

He wanted to ask about it, but he found himself unable to find the words to do so. Jaskier didn’t seem mad at him—he knew what that looked like well enough, and this wasn’t it. He wanted to ask, but if he did it seemed possible, probably even likely, that Jaskier would admit that he’d figured out that Geralt was hiding something from him. He might even have realized the extent of Geralt’s feelings, or what the ritual really meant. Maybe Silvandrel had said too much, or Geralt had been too expressive, or too generous. Whatever it was, Jaskier was smart, maybe the smartest man Geralt had ever known; it wouldn’t take much for him to put two and two together. As he found Jaskier’s eyes lingering on him more and more frequently, it seemed also more and more likely that Jaskier was just trying to find a way to let him down easily.

Still, it wasn’t unbearable. Traveling with Jaskier in a mood was still better than traveling alone, and as always Geralt relished the chance to spend such uninterrupted time together. It was the best in the evenings, when their camp was already set up and the heat of the day had dispersed, and they had nothing better to do than sit and talk before both of them grew too tired to stay awake.

“What’s it like?” Jaskier asked one evening, lying on his bedroll with his ankle propped up on one raised knee. His lute was in his hands, a rare thing nowadays, but he wasn’t really playing it, just plucking a tune here or there. Testing the waters, it seemed.

Geralt was sitting with his back propped against a ragged tree stump, charred at the top where lightning had once struck. He looked up from where he was examining Roach’s tack, taking too long to reply as he was caught up in the image of Jaskier in the firelight. “What?”

Jaskier swiveled his head to look over at him, looking uncharacteristically pensive. “Being immortal. Or—not mortal. What do you even call a witcher, anyways. Semi-mortal? How long do you usually live? I’ve never gotten a straight answer about it.”

Geralt shrugged, the bridle dangling between his knees as he set his elbows to rest on them. “No one really knows,” he admitted. “Vesemir is… three hundred? We’re not sure, that’s based on references he makes, but Lambert swears sometimes he says things just to throw us off. Witchers don’t really… die of old age.”

“Surely some of you must retire,” Jaskier insisted. “Maybe not lately, but in years past…”

Geralt shook his head. “If they did, I haven’t heard of them. The Path is our life; we meet our end while on it. I know we can live for several human lifetimes, at least. I was older than you are now when we met.”

Jaskier’s mouth twisted in a smile that ached with bitter nostalgia. “I must have looked like a child to you.”

“You were a child,” Geralt laughed.

Jaskier threw something at him, and it bounced harmlessly off his knee. An acorn; the entire area was thick with oak trees. Clearing the ground beneath their bedrolls had been a pain. “Ass,” Jaskier chidded, but he was chuckling too. “I suppose we must all seem rather young to people like you though. Yennefer is the worst, she shouldn’t be allowed to poke fun at my very dignified salt and pepper and then turn around and call me an infant the next moment.”

Young man, Silvandrel had said, with that odd patronization that came only to those who would outlive most people they met. “It’s… not exactly like that,” Geralt allowed, studying Jaskier’s profile painted in orange and gold and dark dusky blue shadows. “Age isn’t the same as experience. There are eighty year olds who have done less in their lives than you had at twenty-three.” Jaskier looked over at him again, with a distinct expression of surprise and awe that Geralt was beginning to recognize as his reaction to Geralt giving him a compliment. He pushed on, turning his own gaze back to the tack in his hands. “I just mean, you don’t seem young, or inexperienced—at least not anymore,” he added, unable to resist throwing Jaskier a quick smirk.

“So Yennefer just calls me a toddler for her own enjoyment,” Jaskier said, squinting at him.

“Well, yes,” Geralt snorted. “But, it’s—you’ll understand. After. It’s not that you all seem young, necessarily, it’s just that you all seem sort of… I don’t know.” He shrugged. It was difficult to articulate the strange sense of fragility and youth that he associated with all humans, no matter their age.

“Temporary?” Jaskier offered, and Geralt grunted an affirmation. Of course Jaskier would be able to identify the feeling without ever experiencing it himself. Jaskier hummed in acknowledgement, and was quiet for a few moments, as if mulling that over. His fingers played over his lute strings, picking out a melancholy tune. After a while, he said, “It sounds a bit lonely. Knowing that almost everyone you meet will die a hundred years before you do. That they’ll never understand the way you view the world.” His eyebrows were knotted together as he contemplated the night sky.

Geralt bit his lip. “It… can be. Even amongst ourselves, we never know who’ll make it back after a year on the Path.”

Jaskier’s foot tapped the empty air where it hung over his knee. “Everyone I know, went to school with, taught with in Oxenfurt. They’ll all be gone before I will, if this works.”

Geralt felt dread unfurl within him, but this wasn’t something that he could deny Jaskier. This was the reality of Geralt’s offer, of what he was asking Jaskier to do. “Yes,” he said. But you’ll have me, he didn’t say, even though it burned at the tip of his tongue. You’ll have my brothers, and Ciri, and even Yennefer, and you’ll have me, always. That’s the point.

Jaskier looked over at him, eyes bright. He looked like he could hear Geralt’s thoughts, like maybe he was thinking the same thing. And then he grinned brightly and said, “I’ll outlast Valdo Marx by a century.”

Geralt couldn’t help the startled bark of laughter that left his throat. Jaskier launched into an excited diatribe against Valdo Marx, something about destroying his legacy after death, and Geralt allowed the babble to wash over him as he went back to fixing Roach’s tack.

After a while the conversation turned to other things, and they spent the rest of the evening in relative quiet. Eventually it was time to bed down for the night, and they banked the fire and crawled into their respective bedrolls. Just as Geralt was on the edge of sleep, Jaskier’s voice slipped through the quiet darkness around them.

“I don’t think I’m going to be.”

Geralt shook himself, turning to squint at Jaskier’s grey form, two aching feet away from him. His entire body itched to roll closer, but he focused instead on Jaskier’s words. “Hmm? You won’t be what?”

Jaskier let out a deep breath into the night air, soft like a secret. “Lonely.”

Posada was much the same.

Geralt didn’t know how long it had been since he’d been back. He knew he had been here post-Filavandrel incident, and he suspected Jaskier had as well, but they’d not returned together to the little valley at the edge of the world since the beginning. It had to have been at least ten years since he’d last been here on his own, but the small town was relatively familiar looking still. It had grown a bit since the war, likely as refugees from the south settled in the area, and there were new houses clustered around the outskirts. Still, the bones of it remained unchanged, and the inn was right where they’d left it.

They said nothing as they made their way into the town and headed in that direction. There was, so far as Geralt knew, no other place to find rooms for the night, so they didn’t have much of a choice. Stepping inside the small downstairs tavern should have been just like stepping into any other of the thousands like it that he’d been in, but it wasn’t. Things had been rearranged, of course; the furniture had been shuffled, and now a long table sat on the far side of the room before the fire. The small, cleared out space that Jaskier had stood in to sing was gone, filled with a cluster of tables and chairs. But the lone table in the back corner was, somehow, unmoved.

Geralt turned to Jaskier and found him staring at the spot as if entranced. He brushed his fingers against Jaskier’s forearm, and the bard blinked at him, startled back into the moment. “We should get a room,” Geralt said by way of explanation, and Jaskier nodded.

The man who arranged for their stay was not the one who had done so the first time, or the time after that, but his features were similar, so perhaps this was a son. He was amiable enough, and though Jaskier didn’t make any commitment to playing he offered them a fair rate.

Jaskier did end up playing, after they’d sat and eaten a quiet meal, avoiding the table in the corner in silent agreement. His fingers had worried at the edge of his lute case for a long moment, his eyes unfocused, and then something determined had steeled over his face and he’d stood.

There was a decent crowd this time around, bigger than the last time—the first time—that Jaskier had played here. Geralt remembered the stumbling notes, the ridiculous stories that spilled from the bard’s lips, unrefined. The way that the patrons of the bar had heckled him until he dipped sheepishly off the stage. He could understand why Jaskier might be nervous about playing here; even if no one remembered him, this had obviously been one of Jaskier’s first real performances for an honest audience.

It was like night and day. Jaskier had the entire room eating out of the palm of his hand in moments, as he always did, and his voice was clear and strong. Geralt recognized most of the songs, and almost all of them were about him, though he didn’t think any of the patrons put two and two together. Whereas Jaskier normally poked and prodded at Geralt throughout a performance to let everyone know that his muse was present, tonight he was subdued, letting Geralt watch quietly from a side table without dragging him into the proceedings. He might have thought that Jaskier had forgotten his presence entirely, if not for the occasional glance he caught Jaskier throwing his way, stealing his breath each time.

When he was finally done with his set and bowed his way out to the cheers of the audience, he made his way back to Geralt with his lute tucked under his arm. Jaskier leaned against the table in the space next to him, their knees just barely touching where Geralt’s was thrust out away from the chair. Jaskier looked down at him with almost a sheepish expression, giving him a quirked smile. “So. Three words or less?”

There were so many things he could say to that. So many things he wanted to say. You’re so beautiful, he thought, his eyes catching on the way Jaskier’s fingers wrapped around the neck of the lute, how his eyes shone in the low light of the inn. I loved it. Don’t leave me. I love you.

Instead, he said, a bit hoarsely, “Definitely more accurate.”

Jaskier laughed, some of that tension he’d been carrying for weeks breaking, and Geralt felt sweet relief at the sound. “Well I’d certainly hope so, after nearly thirty years of tailing you. At the very least I know my drowners from my nekkers.”

“At least there’s that,” Geralt chuckled, passing Jaskier a tankard of ale as he sat. “Glad to see you got something out of it.”

Jaskier took a sip of his drink, leaning his cheek on his fist. His eyes were bright when he looked at Geralt, and his expression was one Geralt recognized—he was bothered about something, but trying to keep his demeanor jovial. On anyone else, Geralt expected it would be an immaculate deception, but Geralt knew him. He wasn’t fooled by Jaskier’s court masks.

“Was it worth it?” Jaskier asked, taking another sip of his ale. His eyes left Geralt’s, flitting around the room.

Geralt frowned at him. “Was what worth it?”

Jaskier looked back at him, expression unreadable. “Letting an ambitious and no doubt obnoxious bard leave this tavern with you all those years ago.”

Geralt couldn’t help it; before he could think to stop himself, he had reached out to set his hand over Jaskier’s where it still held the handle of his cup. Jaskier jerked a bit at the touch, a drop of ale sliding down over their layered hands. “Of course it was,” Geralt said vehemently, not bothering to keep the earnestness out of his tone. Jaskier had to know. Even if he already suspected that something was afoot, even if this was some sort of test, Geralt couldn’t risk letting Jaskier think that he regretted a single moment of it. “You’re… Jask, you’re one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

Geralt could hear the sharp intake of breath at that, could see the way Jaskier looked down at their overlapped fingers and blinked rapidly. A small smile stole across his face, though there was a twist to it that seemed almost sad. “I’m glad, Geralt. Truly.”

Geralt wanted to ask, And for you? Was it worth it? But the tavern goers were quickly heading out now that Jaskier’s set was finished, and it was obvious that they would soon be the last ones remaining. And he found himself afraid, as he so often was nowadays, of the possibility that Jaskier would say no, that he should have spent the last thirty years playing in noble houses and courting beautiful women, rather than trekking endlessly after a surly witcher. He knew that it would make sense for Jaskier to have regrets, but he found that he didn’t think he was strong enough to hear them spoken aloud.

So instead he transferred his touch to Jaskier’s wrist, giving it a light tug. “We should head up,” he said, and Jaskier nodded. They pulled apart, and Jaskier finished his drink, and collected his lute. As they both turned to walk up the stairs, Geralt found his eyes catching once again on the little table in the corner. It had sat empty the entire night, as if waiting for something—or someone—to fill its seats once again.

Almost done folks! Just two more parts, and tomorrow’s includes the last piece of art for this story!

tags: @whereismymonsterlover

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geraltxjaskier #geralt/jaskier #the witcher #witcher #big bang #fic #fanfic #writing #my work #me lamh #geraskierbigbang #multichapter

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foulcrownkryptonite · 3 years

Text

Tracing Constellations

A storm rages through the 104th's wooded training quarters, leaving a long hike for Jean and Marco to fix a water-logged issue... the time alone making for some unexpected discoveries.

(for the sake of the fic + levels of maturity I am achieving with this story, everyone will be legal adults!)

Chapter One: An Obscurity.

“I’ll kill them all! Just you wait and see!!” The dining hall had been relatively calm, the tranquil buzz of steady conversation and cutlery clinking against plates mixed to create a pleasant hum. It was one of those rare nights their usual starchy glop was exchanged for a more sustainable, hearty potato soup, paired with a cheap but effective booze. A good night to say the least. A good night until Eren (Dumbass) Jaeger opened his obnoxious mouth. The young man’s tired phrase reverberated throughout the hall, pitching obnoxiously off the high ember ceiling. God, I’m too sober for this…

Eren’s endless prattling of ‘I’ll save the world’ or ‘I have more passion than anyone here’ had gotten old fast. It bugged the ever-loving shit out of him, and with the current daggers-for-eyes and under-the-breath-scoffs Jaeger was getting, the sentiment was well shared.

“Don’t give me that Mikasa, I mean it! I’m going to kill every last one of those-'' Eren was promptly cut off by Jean’s hands smacking the table in front of him, causing a nearby fork to clink to the ground. Jean rose from his seat with an overly dramatic flare, making a show out of swooping his hair back. If the entire dining hall weren’t already watching the pair with dreadful, tired looks, they certainly were now. Some hushed whispers and exasperated groans sprinkled about the room as Jean assumed his stance towering over Eren.

“Well, all hail King Jaeger, eh? Oh don’t worry my friends, the man who can’t balance on his ODM gear will stop the incoming apocalypse!” he taunted, voice oozing with that special kind of ridicule Jean knew got Eren’s blood boiling. He was up and out of his seat before Mikasa had a chance to pull him back. Jean snorted loudly.

“Eager are we? Well then Jaeger, fight me like the man you’re always claiming to be.”

“Says the fucking horse face”

“Oh how original”

“Foal!”

“Jackass!”

The surrounding cadets watched with jaded faces, sighing at the scene unfolding for at least the third time that week. It was no longer entertaining, or really worth wasting any time or energy on, so they returned their attention to their much more exciting dinners and side banters.

The ever arrogant duo stepped to the center of the room, assuming, of course, all focus to be on them. Sharing dissent and ill-bred sneers, they theatrically assumed their fighting position. Guess I’ll just have to put him back in his pla-

“Nope. Okay-hah, we’re done here.” Marco interrupted, their foolish behavior striking his last nerve, the last nerve of the entire collective dining hall for that matter. Sighs of relief and annoyance sounded around them as Marco marched over and grabbed at Jean’s jacket, pulling him out from the table and towards the door.

“‘Ey, what’re you doin-” Marco wordlessly dragged the half pissed, half confused and positively tipsy Jean across the room, the grip on his jacket unwavering. A small chuckle escaped Jean’s mouth at Marco's unexpectedly forceful behavior. Damn, those muscles aren’t just for show, huh?

Marco sighed as he led him towards the door, a poorly concealed smile creeping its way onto his features. “Bedtime.” Marco concluded, biting back his smile in need of a more threatening look. Jean didn’t fight it. Instead, he bristled as he caught Conny’s snide face before the door to the dining hall was shut by Marco’s boot. The low lit lantern illuminated the two in a soft orange glow and the thick wooden door effectively drowned out the murmurs coming from behind it.

The change in air was drastic, shifting from a crowded and loud mess hall to the peaceful sounds of an autumn night and Marco’s freckled face incandescent under that old lantern. Marco’s hand remained firm in the layers of his jacket yet neither made motions to move. Jean was in a weird sort of trance and yeah he should move and unblock the way for Marco but for some reason he didn't. It wasn’t as if the other had really given him a chance to, what with him still holding onto the front of Jean’s coat.. A couple still moments passed and Marco had a strange, almost calculating look on his face.

Jean couldn't remember how long he had been standing there, the alcohol starting to intoxicate his body and the sheer closeness of Marco starting to intoxicate his brain. But if the loosening grip on his chest and Marco’s suddenly flushing face said anything, whatever this was had gone on a bit too long. The last thing Jean wanted was to make his good friend uncomfortable- No matter how nice just standing there in the cool breeze with Marco’s hand on his chest… Nope. Backtrack on that line of thinking. Immediately.

Things were getting awkward fast and Marco looked like he was going to say something and shit he probably shouldn’t have chugged that last bit of his drink, huh? To clear the sudden tension caused by his inability not to fucking gawk at Marco, Jean did the only thing his dumb tipsy brain could think of: make a drunken escape.

“Betcha can’t catch me.” he blurted before breaking out of Marco’s loose hold, running towards their quarters in a less than put together fashion. Was Jean literally running away from whatever moment just passed between the two? Why yes, indeed he was. But Marco’s eventual breathy laugh and quickening footsteps enclosing in on him told Jean everything was fine. Well consider that a job well done.

The two then stupidly ran around the camp, Jean hiding behind every tree and supply wagon trying to scare Marco, and Marco doing everything in his power to tackle the other. After a particularly bone crushing embrace and a loud laughing fit quickly admonished by Shadis, the inebriated pair walked the rest of the way to their dorm, the air around them now whimsy and casual.

They trudged through the wooded path, torches lighting the ground every few yards. They sprung into sporadic fits of giggles over absolutely nothing, both of the men now feeling the full effects of dinner’ mead, and Marco no longer playing the role of the responsible sober friend.

The cadets had been training in the woods for a week now, the goal being to get them used to ODM gear and combat in a dense forest. It was a welcome change of scenery from the usual parching desert and brutal heat. Being surrounded by rich greens and active rivers somehow made the strenuous drilling and long hours somewhat enjoyable.

Though navigating the dark forested path whilst drunk proved to be more than a little difficult. His attempts at walking straight in the dense woods were apparently remarkably entertaining, as when Jean confidently waltzed straight into a tree the slightly less drunk Marco lost his absolute mind, laughing himself into a puddle on the ground.

With minimal bumps and bruises, they eventually made it to their quarters. Marco plopped himself dramatically onto an old shipping barrel and started to squirm his way out of his jacket. Ok, perhaps the other was drunker than Jean thought.

Chuckling to himself, he walked over to help his struggling friend out of the confines of the fabric. Marco stopped squirming and tried to accommodate for Jeans helping hands, flushing slightly when his eyes met Jeans. He quickly averted his gaze, turning to eye the door as Jean finished struggling with the last button.

With the jacket discarded, Marco straightened his gaze to look up at Jean, who seemed to tower over him. A couple heated seconds passed in silence until Marco started… shaking? Before concern could settle in, sporadic chuckles started to escape from the man underneath him, evolving into a full on belly laugh. Jean took a small step back and looked down at him in bewilderment but Marco just shook his head, words be damned in his current state.

“Sorry, I just-” he began to topple over himself, a fit of laughter bubbling in his stomach. “I don’t know why I’m laughing honestly-” he spat out through giggles. He was fluctuating between attempting to catch his breath and then losing it all over again. It was utterly ridiculous, but Jean couldn’t hold back his own ugly laugh at the scene. Every couple of seconds Marco would try to stop and speak through the laughter but to no avail, making Jean slump to the ground in front of Marco, clutching his stomach as his body heaved with mirth.

Marco was snorting at that point and on anyone else he would’ve been annoyed at the sheer volume. Say, if Eren was sitting on that barrel losing his damn mind over nothing at all he would’ve slapped the sense back into him. But something about Marco’s water filled eyes and big loud smile just made him feel warm. Or.. perhaps that was just the alcohol.

He grinned as he looked only at the mad man sitting in front of him. From this distance he could see each little freckle adorning his nose and cheeks and the way his nose would scrunch in between sets of giggles. It was an endearing sight, cute even, though Jean would never admit that aloud.

Too caught up in their snickering, the two almost didn’t notice their comrades briskly stumbling in, Ymir being the one who pushed the two large wooden doors hurriedly. “In.” she commanded, and stepped back as everyone else dashed inside. Jean startled and Marco’s laughter alleviated as Ymir eyed them, her face contorted so it was impressively indecipherable. She had quite the poker face, though some general annoyance seemed to seep out as usual.

“What’s the damn ruckus about?” Jean demanded more than he asked, his filter coming back down hard now that more people were around. Ymir looked at Jean with a face that basically read as, ‘Shut the fuck up you’re the one making a dopey ruckus.’ Instead of voicing any of that though, she shut and locked the door as the final cadets made their way inside.

“Massive storm coming in, it’ll do some damage” she stated plainly before her eyes went back to Marco. “Maybe you two lovebirds would’ve noticed if you weren’t screaming like damn hyenas.” she joked dryly, her arms coming to a close across her chest. Marco snorted slightly at the tease but Jean stood up defensively, though perhaps a bit wobbly.

Before he could say a word, Ymir cut in with a raised brow. “Whoaaa relax there horsey, I’m kidding. Mostly. Just go lock the windows in the other rooms before they blow out in the middle of the night.” he nodded hesitantly in response and gave Marco a floppy wave of sorts. He still looked like he was glowing, as if somehow the light from the torches outside still reflected in his pale brown eyes. A sneer from Ymir brought his attention back to… what exactly? Oh right, the windows. Jean quickly left without another word, cursing the alcohol slightly under his breath. The rest of the cadets shuffled about, fulfilling whatever it was their makeshift Captain Ymir ordered.

Not without a scoff and an eye roll, she turned back to Marco. “Just us,” she demanded. “Help me with the rest of the rooms.”

__________

(MARCO POV)

After a solid half hour of flood-proofing the place to the best of their ability, as well as general clean up, Ymir poured the two of them a small whisky to top off the night. Marco relaxed into the sole couch of the common room and Ymir slumped herself into a chair by the window.

The living space was dusky and growing winds pounded the windows, putting them slightly on edge. Nevertheless, Ymir seemed to have something to say to him. She gulped down her drink and tossed the empty glass onto the ground, Marco’s eyes widening in both awe and intimidation. He steeled his nerves as he prepared for whatever it was Ymir needed out of him.

She looked at him like a scientist to a specimen, searching for something upon Marco’s features. Marco squirmed under the intense stare, and it was then that Ymir asked the burning question, cutting right to the chase.

“Do you like Jean?” she probed. Marco sucked in a quick breath at this question. The answer was yes, but why was she asking in the first place? Not knowing exactly what angle she was getting at, he tried to answer in the simplest, most non revealing way.

“Yeah I mean we’re definitely good friends.” he said apprehensively. Not wanting to look Ymir in the eyes, his gaze fell back to the rather pretty glass in his hands, thumbs tracing the engraved pattern.

Ymir smirked at this reaction and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees in a carefree ‘Ymir’ kinda way. “Marco. You know what I'm asking.” her voice was laced with mirth and her sneering face told him she probably already knew his answer. Damn her perceptiveness. Marco had hoped he wasn’t too obvious in his… feelings. But he supposes after tonight's less than subtle antics, e.g., grabbing a laughing Jean into an animalistic embrace and holding it for much longer than necessary, people would start suspecting something.

His eyes still didn’t meet hers as he sighed shakily, knowing there was little to no backing away from this conversation. “Please just… Don’t tell him?” he pleaded, looking back to the girl sitting across from him. Her previous visible mockery and inevitable taunt had faded, her features setting into something akin to understanding.

“Sure, you can trust me.” she said casually, taking a swig of the remaining whisky straight from the bottle. “We’re the same in that way if ya catch my drift.” Although compared to, say Christa, Ymir’s words would seem invasive and rude, they were sweet in their own way. And although Marco wouldn’t say this wasn’t invasive, he appreciated the kindness nonetheless.

Regardless, Marco definitely “caught her drift”. He looked at her with a sort of twinkle in his eyes, pleased to know there was at least one other person in the 104th that wasn’t straight. He chuckled, still embarrassed despite the genuinely accepting nature of their conversation thus far. “God, what gave it away?”

“Oh, I dunno,” she sighed dramatically, “Maybe the way he was looking at you. Maybe the way you were looking at him… Or maybe just a hunch I happened to get right.” Marco laughed at the sentiment before a frown crept onto his face. “Does anyone else…”

“Know?” she finished. Marco nodded. “No, they don’t. It seems only I had the misfortune of seeing you two ogle each other all the damn time. Awful luck on my part. But don’t ya worry, your dirty little secret’s safe with me.”

He snickered as he raised his glass to his lips, downing the rest of the liquid inside. Ymir gave him a curious glance, and Marco softly set the drink down to his side, hands reaching up to grab at his warming face.

“God, what do I even do about it?” he mumbled through the palms of his hands, and Ymir could taste the desperation from where she sat.

Resting her chin between her fingers, she spoke. “Look, hear me out before you interrupt and tell me I’m wrong - but he likes you too.” Marco lifted his head to speak but Ymir cut him off with a glance. “I said, listen. I see the way he looks at you. I saw the way he looked at you tonight. He wasn’t just glancing at his friend… He was admiring you, Marco, your features. Now to me, that’s pretty telling.” Marco contemplated what she was saying, tried to really think about it before he shot it down entirely.

Is that really true? Is it even possible that the oh so straight Mr. ladies man Jean could… Feel the same way about him? It’s true they had some… moments tonight. Hell they’ve been having “moments” for as long as they've known each other. Though Jean did end up speeding away from one of those so called moments just over an hour ago… Was he being too hopeful? Oh god was he coming on too strong?

Ymir groaned at Marco's crestfallen face and stood up, closing the distance between the seats and plopping herself next to Marco. He gave her a curious glance, and in turn she gave a patient smile, well it was really closer to a grimace but still, it was the principle of it all.

He sat quietly, picking his lips with his bottom teeth. Ymir let him wallow in his worry for a whopping three seconds before kicking his ankle with her boot.

“Ow!” Marco pouted. An unspoken question of ‘The hell was that for?’ being shut down before it could be voiced.

“Oh shut it you were visibly spiraling.”

Ymir sunk into the back of the couch, pondering a moment before speaking again.

“You know, Jean isn’t going to initiate anything. Seeing as you’re more in tune with your emotions than that knucklehead is, you need to drop your damn balls and make a move.” Marco scoffed, shaking his head with a slight smile at Ymir’s bluntness.

“I know, I know… You’re right.” Marco finally begrudged, causing Ymir’s ‘Of course I'm right’ smile to appear. “But we never get alone time - we’re always interrupted before he can fully open up to me…”

“Yes!” Ymir exclaimed. “You see it now. Sure it might seem tricky, but if Christa and I can find a way, you can too.” she winked and Marco damn near choked.

“You- and- I had no idea I mean-“ he stuttered before she kicked him again.

“Shut up. And don’t tell a soul.” She smiled cheekily. He nodded intently.

“Course, Ymir.” She playfully punched him, standing up from the sunken couch.

“Good luck, Marco.” she whispered.

He beamed, his chest gleaming with a soft gratitude. “Thank you.”

When Marco turned in for the night, his mind raced with endless possibilities, ranging from transcendent to nightmarish. Wishful thoughts flashed through his mind; Jean getting impossibly close, feather light touches of hands, his head resting in the crook of Jean’s neck, Marco being told he was wanted, telling Jean he wanted him. He bit his cheek, smiling stupidly at the fantasies before he felt a deep sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Jean could easily not feel the same. Jean could easily have never entertained the same idyllic fantasies as Marco was now.

Great, now it hurt.

Plagued with a new sense of guilt, he tossed and turned in the seasoned cot, praying for sleep to take him away from the build up of emotions in his chest. He pondered the possibility of similar thoughts dancing in Jean’s mind…

__________

(Jean POV)

Jean didn’t “wake up”, he just was up. That damned storm last night had kept him awake practically all night. What first was an occasional gust quickly turned into a rampaging wind-demon set out to prevent him and apparently only him from sleeping soundly. Someone had cursed him. Probably that damn Jaeger out for revenge due to Jean always winning their feuds. Typical.

The little sleep he did get consisted of repeated unsolicited scenarios about… Well that didn’t matter now.

It was the morning after a ferocious storm and he was reluctant to see the wreckage he knew he had to help out with. He groaned, rolling out of his bed in an overly dramatic pout. Sure he was acting a bit like a child but right now he just needed sleep so damn everything else, he’s going to throw his little fit. He caught Marco looking at him out of the corner of his eye, his hair ruffled and looking extra fluffy. He was giggling at Jean’s stubborn theatrics, a sweater-hooded hand loosely covering his mouth. Cute. Jean felt a bit more energized after that and he didn't bother to question why.

Once dressed, he headed out to meet the rest of the trainees outside the sleeping quarters. Holy hell, the damage was bad: shingles of the roof scattered the grass, trash was knocked down, even some large trees had fallen in the distance.

Eren rolled his eyes before their commander could even step close. “God, can’t we make someone else clea-” the brat began before getting hit softly by Armin.

“Eren! One day of cleanup doesn’t equate to the fall of humanity.” he sharply retorted. Jean chuckled at this exchange, overjoyed to see the prick put in his place by his own best friend. Speaking of which, he couldn’t seem to spot Marco…

“ATTENTION CADETS.” their Commander roared as he marched toward the gathered crowd.

“YES SIR!” They yelled back in unison, fists crossing chests in an assertive salute.

“Deep woods ODM training is put on hold for today due to the storm. I will be assigning you each in groups of two or three to aid in cleaning this mess.” Jean scanned the surrounding area nervously, where was Marco? “Proceed to the front to get your duty from me before you grab a cold meal.” the Commander directed. Pairs of people made their way to get their job of the day, but Jean stayed behind, unable to spot Marco. Nerves crept up his spine as the line got shorter, indicating he would have to grab a job with someone he possibly couldn’t stand - especially after such a shitty sleep.

A few moments later and the remaining crowd was scant, still no Marco to be seen. “Jean, you’re on running water. I need you to go up to the creek and find the source stopping the water from running back to us. We have enough for the day, but this cannot go on. You will need a partner…” Shadis trailed off, finding only Annie and some guy Jean barely could remember the name of. Tomas? Tobiaus? Timothious?

He sighed, knowing nothing but complaints would come from either cadets if forced to spend an entire day with him. Jean crossed his arms, awaiting a choice of partner from his boss while he dreaded the inevitably long journey stuck with either insufferable silence or annoying small talk.

“Commander sir, I can go with Jean.” A pleasant voice chirped in from behind. And with those few words: salvation. Jean subconsciously uncrossed his arms and smirked as the Commander let out a sigh of relief upon seeing Marco approach.

“Thank Heavens, the one person who can stand him.” he murmured, Marco frowning at the not so quiet comment as he walked up to Jean's side. “That is fine, pack plentiful in case you get stuck for a night, we are not sure how much wreckage is up there, nor how long the journey on foot will take. There’s a shed around there you could set up in for the night. Do not come back today if you do not have ample time before sundown. Now get moving!” he ordered, his last words reverberating in a loud squawk.

“Yes sir!” They saluted before Jean met eyes with Marco. “Where the hell were you?” he questioned. Marco playfully rolled his eyes.

“Worried, hmm?” he chuckled, “Don’t worry, I was just helping Ymir with something.” he replied brightly. Ymir? That seems random… But he decided to not question it.

The two went back to their rooms to pack for their lengthy and no doubt strenuous trip up the mountain. Jean found himself not only not dreading the excursion, but actively looking forward to it. He felt a bit like a hyperactive kid as genuine excitement coursed through his veins. Should he bring his comb? Nah he probably won't need it. But what if they do end up having to spend the night and Jean turns too much in his sleep and his hair gets all messy and floofy and Marco looks at him with damned bed head and then probably giggles to himself and makes a dumb but cute comment about it because its Marco and somehow he always manages to make what Jean is insecure about into something he can actually like about himself just like when he’d said Jean’s eyes were pretty like a brown hibiscus and he stopped hating the way his eyes looked when he saw his reflection looking back at him and- Jean grabbed the stupid hairbrush and threw it into his bag.

Once sufficiently supplied, they scarfed a crummy cold meal before heading out as quickly they could manage.

Marco seemed awfully giddy as they started down a gravely path lined with fern. Though cheerful he often was, Marco was struggling to hide a smile. It wasn’t a bad sight at all, though Jean was curious. “What’s got you so damn happy today?” he questioned. Marco shrugged.

“I think I made a new friend - always a nice feeling, yknow?” Jean would say he’s surprised, but everyone in the 104th loved Marco, even the stoic ones, and he had a sneaking suspicion of who exactly his new friend was.

“Ymir?” he asked plainly. Marco nodded, a soft smile finding its way onto his face.

“Yeah. Y’know, she may seem edgy but she can be really kind.” he expressed, eyes a bit starry and thoughtful. He clearly didn’t hear how the words sounded to Jean.

Jean bit back the bitter remark already forming as envy crept its way into his mind. Why was it bothering him? He’s still his friend. His best friend even. Gah, not a big deal, keep it together. He told himself before rephrasing whatever edgy comment he was going to sneer into a hopefully harmless question.

“You like her?” he ended up asking, false humor falling from his tongue.

Marco looked visibly confused. “What? No I’m- not my type. She just has a good head on her.” he surmised. Why won’t Marco ever admit attraction? Does he not trust Jean? Jean had no problem divulging about those he found hot, so why wouldn’t Marco do the same?

The next few hours were spent bullshitting around as they walked; sharing stupid jokes about who in their class was most likely to get kicked out, a stupid conversation about Ymir that probably shouldn’t have peeved him so much, Jean going on a long winded rant about how justified he is in smacking Eren atop the head, Marco stopping to pick up random bird feathers exclaiming each time that, “No Jean, you don’t get it, this one is rare.” and eventually, as the sun started its descent towards the horizon, their casual banter shifted into their hopes for the future.

“Eh, I don’t wanna get married. Who wants to be stuck with a chick forever?!” Jean quipped. At his words Marco chuckled nervously, his gaze diverting to the coarse dirt beneath him.

“Yeah, me too. I don’t wanna get married. I’m fine living a life alone with me and my hobbies.” he said flippantly, fiddling with the strap of his backpack. Jean found the tone of his voice had changed into something more sullen and somber, and a glance over at his friend did not yield him any better results. Jean must do something about this.

He lightly elbowed his friend. “Well, if ya change your mind, I think you’d make a great husband some day.” Jean said honestly, no lick of sarcasm to his voice. Marco’s knees wobbled for a moment before he corrected them, clearing his throat to cover his obvious nerves.

“Thanks, Jean. You too.” he replied, biting his cheek. Another glance towards his friend showed a soft smile and a flushed face. Jean succeeded. Though now he too felt a bit hot in the face. He once again decided not to unpack that.

As they hiked, they spotted a would-be stream leading down to their base. Taking note of the lack of obvious running water, they were certain something rather large had blocked it. “Guess it’ll be a chore huh.” Marco pointed out. Jean began flexing dramatically, his tight muscles showing slightly through the thin white tunic.

“Pfft, your ol’ buddy Jean here will fix it right up for us, eh?” he joked, Marco eyeing him with a raised eyebrow followed with a hearty laugh. Sure, he wasn’t helping Jean’s ego, but he didn’t care.

The more they conversed alone, the more Jean felt his social facade fade, ending up losing whatever filter he had in place for other people all together. He wasn’t sure why this was the case, only knew that it made him feel relaxed and just genuinely, all around good. Perhaps it was the lack of a crowd - or Eren Jaeger. Either way, he was loosening up and took joy in seeing Marco enjoy himself on this trip as well.

“This is nice,” Jean said, smiling at the open air and lack of obvious walls. It felt open here, almost free. Hell, for the most part, they’ve forgotten completely about life inside the walls. Marco looked over and followed his friend's gaze to the sky, basking in the comfortable feeling.

“It is…” he began, sneaking another glance at Jean. “Really nice.”.

PART 2!!!

https://foulcrownkryptonite.tumblr.com/post/663166809268224000/tracing-constellations-pt2

#JeanMarco #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein fanfiction #marco bott #marco bodt #jean x marco #fluff #kissing #making out #spicy #marco x jean #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #our second fic ever #please be nice #and gentle #slow burn #slow build #cute

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lucys-key · 3 years

Text

Unexpected Encounters (Eren Yeager x Reader)

Part 1: Long Time, No See

An unexpected encounter one night reunites you with someone you haven't seen in a long time, but have also never quite forgotten about. (College/Modern AU).

Rating: Mature for now, but will probably change to explicit. (18+ only)

Warnings: Some cursing in this part, but otherwise no warnings. Let me know if you find anything else I should tag, though!

A/N: This is kinda something I’ve been writing for fun, haha, so I hope you enjoy!

...

It was the summer before your first year of college.

A summer that was a whirlwind of planning, buying everything you could think of that you might need, and saying goodbye to old friends.

You were equal parts nervous and excited. You were looking forward to getting away from the people at your high school, four years having been quite enough time with all of them, but you were also sad to be leaving the friends you had made. Anxiety about leaving home for the first time was also beginning to creep up as you got closer to move-in day. Needless to say, it was a stressful time.

You took a deep breath as you looked around your room. There was still so much that needed to be done, but it was such a nice day outside. You couldn’t bring yourself to focus on getting your shit together for school when you were missing out on your last summer before your first stage of adulthood.

Instead of packing, you walked over to the desk in your room where your phone was sitting and called your best friend Sasha. It was unfortunate, but you and Sasha had completely different interests when it came to academics, so when it was time to choose a college, you both ended up choosing rather different schools. Coming to terms with the fact that Sasha was not going to be there for you in-person everyday was perhaps one of the most difficult things about preparing to go off to college.

The line rang three times before Sasha picked up, her muffled greeting indicating that she was snacking on something, as per usual.

“What’s up?” she asked after swallowing her food. “Finished packing?”

You sighed and looked around your room which was a mess of boxes and clothes strewn around the floor that you were trying to decide whether or not to take with you.

“Nope. I’m procrastinating,” you said almost proudly. “This summer has gone by way too fast. I really thought I’d have more time to do everything.”

“Ugh, same,” Sasha groaned as she took another bite of whatever it was she was snacking on. “I take back what I said about wanting to further my education.”

You laughed and said, “I think it’s too late for that. Besides, don’t all freshmen get the unlimited meal plan at your school?”

Sasha squealed and you could feel her joy through the phone.

“YES!” she exclaimed. “And there are four dining halls to choose from. FOUR!”

“I’m happy for you and your culinary college journey,” you replied, feeling like you were really going to miss having your best friend around.

You heard a noise in the background that sounded like Sasha’s father, and sure enough, a second later Sasha said, “I’m happy for me, too, but hey, I gotta go. Fam requires my assistance.”

You nodded even though she couldn’t see you through the phone. “Go assist. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alrighty, love you,” Sasha said and then hung up.

As you put your phone back down on the desk, you couldn’t help but feel a little sad. You only had a week before it was time to drive for four hours to your new home, and you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You still didn’t want to pack, and Sasha was busy so hanging out with her was also not an option.

Eventually, you sighed and stood up to face the inevitable: you had to pack, or at least organize your things. Before getting started, you walked over to the window next to your bed and looked outside. The sun was beginning to set, and it was still such a nice day. You pulled the window open to let in the warm summer breeze, and you heard the pleasant rustling of the leaves on the tree outside of your room.

After a few hours of packing, dinner, and watching Netflix, the sun had set completely, and you felt exhausted. You went to your dresser to put on an old, oversized t-shirt before going to the bathroom to complete your nighttime routine.

Once you were finished, you got into bed, pulled the covers over you, and soon enough you were fast asleep.

___

A loud noise.

You stirred in your sleep, not quite waking.

But then you heard another noise, and you sat up and opened your eyes, blinking them a few times to try and process your surroundings better. You looked around your room and didn’t see anything.

You felt a breeze and then realized that you had forgotten to close the window before going to bed. Deciding that the noise had been something from outside, you pushed your bed covers off of yourself to get up and close the window.

Only, as soon as your feet hit the ground and you took a step forward, you tripped over something on the floor and landed right on top of it. You groaned in pain, but before you could look to see what it was you had tripped on, an unfamiliar voice resonated throughout your bedroom.

“Ow, Jean. What the fuck?!”

You immediately froze. That was a person who just spoke. There was a person in your bedroom. A person you didn’t know, at least not by their voice.

After a few seconds, you got yourself together and quickly scrambled away from whoever it was lying on your bedroom floor. You stood up so you were looking down at them.

“Who are you?” you demanded, trying to keep the terrified edge out of your voice. Your eyes still hadn’t adjusted to the dark room so you couldn’t get a good look at their face.

The person moved, presumably to sit up, and then there was a pause.

“What do you mean ‘who am I?’ Who are you?” the stranger demanded back.

You scoffed. “This is my room dumbass. Get out. Now.”

Whoever it was in your room made a noise of confusion, and you walked around your bed to turn on the lamp. It filled your room with a soft light.

When you walked back around to the other side of your bed, the stranger had stood up, but their back was turned to you. All you could see was brown hair tied into a loose, messy bun.

“This isn’t Jean’s room,” they remarked and then whipped around to face you.

“Hey, where the fuck am I?”

You stood still as you finally got a look at the stranger’s face. Although it had been a long time, you’d recognize those bright green eyes anywhere.

“Eren?” you asked in astonishment.

Eren’s eyes widened slightly, and you were more than a little surprised when he said your name in return. You were sure after six years he would’ve forgotten it— forgotten you. You had been nothing more than classmates, after all.

Eren stood for a few seconds, but then his face broke out into a grin.

“Damn. It’s been a long time,” he said your name again, and as he continued to look at you, you were suddenly reminded of how you must have looked. You had only worn an oversized shirt to bed. Thankfully, it covered the upper half of your thighs, but you still felt yourself wishing you had more clothes on, as Eren was completely dressed in black sweats, a grey t-shirt, and sneakers.

As you looked at his face, you couldn’t help but recognize how much he had changed over the last few years. You met him when you were just twelve years old and in junior high. His child-like features had disappeared completely, and he was nothing like the boy you remembered.

For starters, Eren had grown— a lot. His voice was deeper, which was why you weren’t able to recognize it earlier. His facial features were also much more defined, his cheekbones and jawline now standing out. And perhaps the most remarkable thing about Eren’s appearance was the fact that he had chosen to grow his hair out. Your memories of Eren were of a boy with short brown hair and green eyes, though those were still the same, running around as he played with his friends at school.

You only let yourself look at him for a few more seconds before addressing the issue that had woken you in the first place.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, still so very confused about how he managed to make it into your bedroom of all places.

Eren rubbed a hand on the back of his neck looking slightly embarrassed.

“Oh, right,” Eren said and laughed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you or anything. I think I must’ve gotten the address confused.”

You almost wanted to roll your eyes in exasperation. What did that even mean? And what was he doing climbing into people’s rooms?

Eren must’ve seen your confusion so he continued his explanation.

“You know Jean, right?” he asked.

Oh yeah, you remembered. He had mentioned his name earlier. It just so happened that after Eren moved away during your second year of junior high—something to do with his dad’s job as a doctor, if you remembered correctly—Jean’s family also moved just across town to your street. You weren’t great friends with him, but you two had gone to the same high school. You also remembered that Eren and Jean used to be close friends before Eren moved away.

“This is my first time back here in a while,” Eren said. “Jean texted me his new address, but I’ve only been here like a day, and clearly haven’t figured everything out.”

Things were starting to make more sense to you, and Eren must have seen you relax slightly because he smiled.

“I don’t normally climb into people’s rooms, by the way,” Eren said, and took his phone out of his pocket to look again at the last text Jean had sent him. “Jean said I’d wake his parents if I went in the front door, so I should use the window since his room is close to the ground.”

Eren frowned and looked behind him at your own window which was still open. “Probably should’ve realized something was wrong when I had to climb a whole ass tree. That was exhausting.”

Despite everything, you found yourself laughing. You couldn’t believe that Eren had climbed all the way up a tree only to end up in your room. You bet he was just as confused as you were when he heard your voice instead of Jean’s.

You walked over to your dresser to take out a pair of shorts to cover yourself, and Eren turned away as you carefully put them on under your shirt.

“Why are you going to Jean’s at…” you started to ask, walking over to your desk to pick up your phone to check the time, “1:30 in the morning?”

Eren, still standing in the middle of your room, raised his eyebrows and grinned.

“Curious, are we?” he joked, and you felt heat rush to your face.

“Not really,” you managed to say, moving away from your desk to sit on your bed. “Just thought I should know why I was woken up by you at such an hour.”

“Fair enough,” Eren replied.

Since you were sitting on your bed, he moved to lean against your desk which was across from you.

“I’m staying with Armin,” Eren continued, “but Jean and I were planning to see some people tonight before everyone leaves for school in the next few days.”

After junior high, Armin transferred to a private high school, but he still lived in the area. You guessed he and Eren had managed to stay best friends even after Eren moved.

“I see. That sounds fun,” you said, but then added, “Although, I’m not sure why your friends like to hang out so late.”

Eren laughed, showing his perfect teeth. “I take it you’re not a night person, then?”

You looked down, feeling suddenly embarrassed.

“Just not tonight,” you replied.

Eren nodded in understanding. He looked at you for a few moments, and you suddenly felt awkward. He was still standing, and you thought you should invite him to sit or something. Was that weird?

You quickly decided that it wasn’t really weird, and you gestured to the desk chair and said, “You can sit if you want.”

Eren looked at the chair, seeming like he hadn’t even realized it was there.

“Oh, sure,” he said, but seemed conflicted. “Only if you want, though,” he continued. “I know I kind of barged in here, and I don’t want to invade your space or keep you up or anything.”

His politeness made you smile, and you found that you didn’t mind his presence in the least.

“No, it’s fine,” you replied.

Eren smiled too and moved to sit on the chair, his front pressed against the back of it so you could still see his face. Eren rested his arms on the top of the back of the chair and leaned forward.

“So how have you been?” he asked, your name leaving his mouth at the end of the question.

Six years was a long time to recap, so you just said, “Pretty good, although I have been stressed lately, as you can see.” You gestured to the many boxes sitting around the floor of your room.

Eren laughed and nodded.

“Yeah, my room looks similar. I needed to get away, and this seemed like a good escape, but I still have so much shit to do when I get back home,” he sighed.

“How long are you here for?” you asked, trying to keep your tone disinterested.

“Just until tomorrow,” he replied.

You were about to say something, but then Eren’s phone began to ring. He muttered “Sorry,” as he took the phone out of his pocket.

Eren turned his head to face the ground as he answered the phone, trying his best to keep his voice down.

“What do you want, horseface?” you heard him say as a greeting. You almost snorted as you realized horseface had to be Jean.

While Eren was talking, you took out your own phone and began to scroll through it mindlessly, not wanting to seem like you were eavesdropping on his conversation. You almost texted Sasha about what was happening, but then decided to wait.

After about a minute or so, Eren hung up the phone. You turned off your phone and looked up to see an apologetic expression on his face.

“Sorry, but I think I have to go,” Eren said, and he almost looked disappointed.

You also felt slightly disappointed but didn’t want to keep Eren from seeing his friends.

“Okay,” you said, and then looked over to your window. Was he planning to climb back out of it?

Eren followed your gaze and seemed to read your thoughts.

“Uh, would it be alright if I used your front door this time?” he asked, laughing shyly.

“Yeah, of course,” you said, feeling stupid. Of course he didn’t want to climb down a tree.

“Thanks,” Eren replied, obviously grateful, and he stood up from the chair.

You got off of your bed and walked towards your bedroom door. Before you opened it, you turned to Eren and said, “We have to be quiet, though. I don’t want to wake anyone.”

He smiled and nodded in understanding.

“Got it,” he whispered.

You turned the handle of your door slowly and pushed it open. With Eren close behind, you led him through the dark hallway to the stairs.

Unfortunately, your stairs were old and fairly steep, so navigating them in the dark would prove to be fairly difficult. You both made it about half-way down without a sound, but then you put your foot in front of you and accidentally missed the next step.

You felt yourself slipping, but then an arm from behind you wrapped around your waist before you could fall.

“Careful,” Eren warned.

“Thanks,” you said, and found yourself laughing at your clumsiness. In response, Eren laughed too. He still had his arm around you, and he was so close that you could hear the sound right next to your ear.

You breathed in deep as you were also able to take in his scent. He smelled like the outside, like smoke and the tree he had climbed, but there was also something sweet, like vanilla.

You heard Eren whisper your name from behind you and snapped out of your trance.

“Sorry,” you said, and then Eren moved his arm back to his side as you continued to walk down the stairs, paying extra attention to where you placed your feet.

After you successfully made it down without another incident, you walked to your front door and pulled it open. You felt the warm summer air rush over your body as you walked outside with Eren. You shut the door behind you so you could say goodbye without anyone in your house hearing.

You and Eren stood awkwardly for a moment, neither of you knowing how to say goodbye. What were you supposed to say? Everything you came up with in your head sounded embarrassing.

But then Eren smiled and laughed nervously, and you felt the tension disappear as it became clear that you and Eren both felt awkward.

You smiled back at him and asked, “Do you know where you’re going?”

Eren put his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants and nodded. “Yep. Looks like I had gotten the last number of the address wrong.”

You made a sound of understanding and were about to say something like goodbye, but then Eren’s voice cut you off before you could say anything.

“Hey,” he said, “it was really nice to see you.”

You couldn’t really believe the situation you were in. You had thought for sure that you would never see Eren again after he moved, yet here he was, standing outside of your house.

“Yeah, you too,” you said, and watched as the wind moved loose pieces of Eren’s hair around his face.

He smiled at you one last time before turning to walk down the pathway leading from your house to the sidewalk.

Before he got too far, he turned around and yelled, “Lock your window from now on!”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you.

“I will!” you yelled back and waved at him.

Eren waved too, and then you watched him walk down the street for a few moments before going back inside your house.

After shutting your front dooor as quietly as you could, you walked back up to your room and took a deep breath. What were you supposed to do now?

You couldn’t get Eren out of your mind, still in disbelief that he had just been in your room. You had way too much energy to get back into bed. You looked around at the clothes on your floor and decided that it would be the perfect time to organize your things.

There was a sweater by your door with the name of your college on it. You picked it up and pulled it over your head before getting started.

Little did you know that in a few weeks, your life was going to become more intertwined with Eren’s than you could have ever imagined.

Read part 2 here

#eren yeager #attack on titan #eren x reader #aot anime #jean kirschtien #armin arlert #fanfic #annie leonhardt #historia reiss #ymir #reiner #snk anime #anime #unexpected encounters

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